Legend
by Just Another Soul
Summary: -"Legends can be sordid. If one does not have a strong will, the deeper they delve into the story, the closer they come to ending it in disaster." Rotton and Sawyer discover some hidden details in Shenhua's past. Companion story to Myth.
1. I

**Legend**

_-noun_

a story or collection of stories about an admirable person.

**A/N:** This story takes place after the El Baile de la Muerte arc. If you haven't read it or if your memory is just a tad fuzzy, I recommend at least skimming over Chapters 57-69 to avoid some confusion.

Disclaimer: Black Lagoon and its characters © Rei Hiroe

* * *

**I: THE PROPOSAL**

Only the most select breed of warrior is destined for legend. While their origins may vary, the final result of their exploits always ends in a grand story. Be it villain or hero, there is always a tale to be told for those who have proven themselves worthy of their status. When these grand epics are shared, they can inspire one to go on their own journey, and a new legend is created in turn. However, legends and the origins thereof are not always blithe. Legends can be dark; they can be sordid. If one does not have a strong will, the deeper they delve into the story, the closer they come to ending the legend in disaster.

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

Shenhua was lying in her bed, her face bare of the usual makeup while she wore a cream colored sleeveless top and shorts in place of her flowing qipao and white silk jacket.

She lifted her blanket to look down at her bandaged legs, a souvenir from that hunting fiasco with the maid. The Taiwanese woman growled and swore it would be a long time before she took another job with the Lagoon's gunwoman again. She always lost big whenever she was around that gun loving bitch. She put the blanket back over her legs and sighed, resting against the pillows she had propped up against her head board. She supposed herself to be lucky that she survived getting shot by Hotel Moscow, and in hindsight, it had certainly been entertaining to see Twinkie throw a tantrum after getting shot in the arm. Shenhua smiled at the thought of Revy being called "One Hand" for a while.

The smile quickly went away. Still, Shenhua had been shot in the legs. All the time that it was taking to heal was money being lost. She was freelance hunter. She killed for a living, but there was absolutely no way she could be paid for her services if she was lying in bed all day. Yet she could still barely walk; the smallest step would send jolts of pain surging through her system before she collapsed in a heap on the floor.

She groaned miserably and twisted the sheets in her fists, turning her head and glancing at the window framed by red curtains. The sun was shining and the sky was blue. What a shame she couldn't enjoy it.

She sighed again. Worst of all, possibly worse than getting shot in the legs, that psychotic maid had bitten one of her khukri into oblivion. Her pair of blades was no longer a pair and Shenhua's eyes glistened in pain at the thought. She had both of them for so long. Those custom blades were her companions ever since she was deemed worthy of wielding the weapon of her choice, and now one of them was destroyed...

"Shenhua, we're back," announced Rotton "the Wizard" as he walked into the room, his black trench coat flowing with each stride. Sawyer "the Cleaner" was by his side, dressed in her favored gothic style of striped purple sleeves with a black skirt and stockings. Shenhua's frown momentarily disappeared as she looked back at her friends approaching her bedside.

"**A quick clean up... for the morning... There's nothing else to do... today,**" Sawyer said, a ghostly augmented tone coming from the choker-mounted voice machine on her scarred neck. "**How are... your legs?**" The gothic woman lifted up the sheets to examine the bandages.

"Bandage not need to be changed yet," Shenhua assured her. "How Rotton do with helping clean up?"

"**I didn't make him... do anything gross... I let him... carry the bags... That's all.**"

Rotton made a show of placing his index finger to the bridge of his sunglasses, saying, "Though the heavy lifting is not my forte, I was glad to be of assistance. I must say, Sawyer's new saw works wel—"

The gothic dressed woman sharply nudged Rotton's side with her elbow, cutting him off. He looked down at her with a questioning glance before he looked back at Shenhua, now realizing why Sawyer interrupted him.

Shenhua looked down at her lap, reminded that she wasn't the only one who lost a weapon during that fight. The maid had broken the chain of Sawyer's weapon and warped—no, _twisted_ the guide bar, leaving Sawyer to look for a new chainsaw, or rather, a new unit she could take apart to replace the broken bits of her preferred model.

If possible, Shenhua's frown grew. Sawyer had managed to make an easy fix herself, but the repairs Shenhua's khukri needed were unfortunately much more... complicated.

"Ah..." In a rare turn of events, Rotton was at a loss for words. "Shenhua, I'm... I apologize. I know how much you cherish—"

Suddenly, Shenhua shook her head.

"Do not be like that, crazy boy. You not really know how much it mean," Shenhua said with a wry smile. Before Rotton could say something in response, Shenhua continued, "You not really know, but it my fault for not sharing. Sawyer, Rotton, sit down. I have story." She patted both sides of the bed and her friends took the hint, carefully sitting in their respective spots.

"**What's... the story about?**" Sawyer asked.

"Just about girl who go off to play with swords," Shenhua said.

"So it's about you?" Rotton asked.

"You like hunter stories, yes? Then I know you enjoy mine," Shenhua hummed. "You say I cherish blade, and I do. I cherish blade very much, but you not know _how_ much."

Rotton noticed that most of the words were directed toward him as Sawyer listened. Being a "blade" wielder herself, Sawyer already had an understanding with Shenhua about how important their respective weapons were to them. That and, unbeknownst to Rotton, Shenhua had already shared several hunting tales with the young woman in private.

Rotton, however, favored guns, and this story would have helped him a great deal in understanding Shenhua's passion for her khukri.

"It was long time ago," Shenhua started. "When I was a girl, I was sent to island to train with best knife fighters in world."

"Where was this island?" Rotton asked.

"Mindanao, in the Philippines. Village I stay in very deep in forest, far away from the towns. I train very hard with the fighters, day and night, no breaks at all until my teacher say so. My teacher..." Shenhua paused. "My teacher the best knife fighter on island. _Liuyedao_, named after willow leaf saber because of how good he is at killing with slashing weapon."

"Was he a freelance hunter like you?"

"Mmm, long time ago," Shenhua confirmed. "Training very hard, weather make it feel so hot I sometime think I in Hell... but I train, keep training, no matter how tired. Then, after years of training, my teacher take me to see bladesmith. My teacher tell me that I ready for my own weapon, my companions."

"Your khukris," Rotton specified. Shenhua nodded slowly in affirmation.

"Huo Niu, the bladesmith, he make them from special steel. When done, my teacher train me more, train me harder so I bond with companions, always know what to do on battlefield. Then..."

"Then what?" Rotton inquired, soaking in the tale of Shenhua's journey as a mercenary.

"... I go into underworld, gain reputation. Hard years of training pay off, Mr. Chang hear of me after I do many job for _Tiandihui_ and I come to Roanapur." The words were almost rushed.

Sawyer knitted her eyebrows. There was more to the story than that.

"What I saying," Shenhua said, holding her hand to Rotton's mouth so he couldn't interrupt her, "I was just girl when I start to train with swords. I give up many year of my life to come here, and companions be with me along way since they forged. They special to me. Losing one to that bitch maid..." She lowered her hand and head.

"I see," Rotton whispered. "Yet... Shenhua?"

"Yes, crazy boy?"

"You said you were sent to the island when you were a girl. Who was it that sent you to live among the knife fighters and be trained by this Liuyedao?"

In an instant, the temperature in the room dropped and Shenhua's eyes hardened. She quickly looked away and coldly said, "It not important. All you need know is that I train long time with khukri before I come to Roanapur. Now, how about you and Sawyer make lunch in kitchen? You look hungry. Go eat."

"But, Shenhua—"

"**Rotton... Shenhua is right... We skipped breakfast... We should eat now...**" The cleaner grabbed Rotton's wrist with a freakishly strong grip and pulled him off of the bed, intent on dragging him into the kitchen. As they exited the room, Sawyer gave a quick glance in Shenhua's direction, seeing a harsh expression on the Taiwanese's woman's face before she shut the door.

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

"**What kind of tea... should we make for Shenhua?**" Sawyer asked, looking through the shelves.

"She seemed rather upset," Rotton said, leaning against the counter.

"**She's grumpy... because she hasn't hunted... in a while. I don't... blame her,**" Sawyer dismissed, deciding on a ginseng tea and pulling out the ingredients. "**Doesn't help... that her legs still hurt...**"

"You know what I'm talking about, Sawyer."

"**Rotton... stop picking at the scab,**" Sawyer sighed. "**She shared... what she wanted to share... Leave it be.**"

A moment of silence, then, "Sawyer, does Shenhua still have her broken khukri?"

"**I think she placed the pieces... in a wooden box... The small one... with satin lining... It's with the blade... that isn't broken... Why?**"

"We can track down the man who forged her blades and ask him to melt the pieces together for her. He can forge a new blade."

Sawyer bopped her head with her palm.

"**Well, golly... Why didn't she... think of that?**" She poked Rotton in the chest. "**It's not... that easy, Rotton... If it were... she wouldn't be acting... the way she is right now... That man... is probably long gone...**"

"Then we can take the pieces to another bladesmith in the city."

"**Rotton... how many bladesmiths in Roanapur... do you know of?**"

"..."

"**Exactly,**" Sawyer said, turning away from him to grab a kettle and fill it with water, "**and even if... we could find one... in Roanapur... you know that Shenhua is very... sensitive... about her blades... She won't even trust... the **_**pieces**_**... in the hands of... a stranger.**"

Sawyer placed the kettle on the stove and turned it on.

Rotton looked down in contemplation, before saying, "We are only _assuming_ the man who forged her weapons is gone. There is a chance he is still there. What if I went to that island, Mindanao, and tracked him down? I can take the pieces along for the trip and surprise Shenhua with the finished blade."

"**And then... we can ride dolphins on the way back... and swim with the mermaids,**" Sawyer said, the monotone of her Ultravoice intensifying her sarcasm. The silver haired merc took no offense and kept trying to convince her.

"Sawyer, if there is still a chance that Shenhua's bladesmith is out there, I believe it is worth trying to find him."

"**Rotton, first off... We don't know... what her bladesmith... looks like... Aside from the knife fighters and the teacher she trained with... only Shenhua knows,**" Sawyer stuck out her index finger, then the middle finger. "**Second... we would have to take her along... for the trip... and we can't do that... because of the holes in her legs...**"

"Yes, but Sawyer—"

"**Third...**" Sawyer's ring finger joined the first two. "**I can't afford... to come along to babysit you... Whether she... admits it or not... Shenhua needs a helping hand... while she heals... and even if that wasn't the case... I own a cleaning business, Rotton... I can't just leave the city... on a whim... I have to be available.**"

"I'm not asking you to come with me," Rotton said.

Sawyer put her hand down and she gave him a quizzical look.

"And I don't need to be babysat," he defended.

"**Hold on... You're telling me... you want to go to a forest... on an island... with the best knife fighters in the world... to find Shenhua's bladesmith... all by yourself?**"

"I know how important your services are to the city, and I know Shenhua still needs time to heal," Rotton said smoothly. "It would be too much to ask of both of you to come under these circumstances. But I can't stand here idly if I know there's something I can do. You stay here with Shenhua and let me find the person who can forge a new blade for her."

"**Rotton... that's...**" Sawyer shook her head. "**That's... stupid. You're not going.**"

The Wizard slumped at the Cleaner's reaction.

"What makes you say that?"

"**Rotton, you think... this is one of those... action movies you love so much?**" Sawyer asked, grabbing his trenchcoat by the collar and pulling him down to her eye level. "**It's not... You think you're just going... to waltz into a forest of killers... and come out unscathed?**"

"I don't intend to do battle with the knife fighters."

"**That doesn't mean... **_**they**_** aren't looking... for a fight,**" Sawyer reasoned, letting go of his collar.

"Nonsense. Shenhua trained with these fighters, correct?" he asked, straightening out his trench coat's collar. "If I tell them it's for her, they can assist me in finding the bladesmith."

"**If your... decapitated head can speak,**" Sawyer warned. "**Words don't work well... against the 'attack first, ask questions later' philosophy.**"

"You're only assuming they live by that philosophy. What if they don't?"

"**What if they do?**"

"...Then I suppose I have no choice but to accept their invitation to combat," Rotton said, placing his right index finger to the center of his sunglasses and extending his left hand, spreading out the fingers in a dramatic gesture.

Sawyer rolled her eyes. Oh, geez...

"When I prove myself in battle, perhaps then they shall be persuaded to give me the information I seek. Or..." He relaxed his pose.

"**Or... what?**" Sawyer asked.

"I shall tell Shenhua of my plans and see if she can contact the fighters beforehand. If it's not possible, then I shall ask her for any advice on how to negotiate with her past sparring partners if they desire to fight." He started to walk toward the exit of the kitchen, but Sawyer quickly blocked him off, leaning against the frame and stretching her arm across so he couldn't pass.

"**If she could call them... to ask where the bladesmith is... she'd have done it by now,**" Sawyer said. "**Rotton... if those fighters attack... your bulletproof vest will not be enough.**"

The kettle on the stove began to screech as Sawyer's chilling blue eyes peered into the dark lenses of Rotton's sunglasses.

"Sawyer, why are you so vehement about all this?"

"**Aside... from you dying?**" Sawyer hissed. "**Shenhua told me... the story she told you... in deeper detail... Rotton, if you go... you are going to see... more than you bargained for.**"

"How so? What is it Shenhua told you that she didn't feel comfortable sharing with me?" Rotton asked.

"**Shenhua's life isn't as glamorous... as those big **_**wuxia**_** movies...**" She tightened her grip on the exit's frame. "**If you dig too deep... you are going to find... things... you do not want to find.**"

"Sawyer, is this concern over my views of the world?" Rotton asked, lifting up a hand to rest on her right shoulder. "I came to Roanapur of my own volition. Surely, if I reside in this city on my own accord, I have a good idea of what darkness the underworld entails."

"**So you think...**" Sawyer uttered, shaking her head in dismay. "**Why... do this now? Why can't you wait... until Shenhua is healed... and then we can all... go together?**"

"Both you and Shenhua have already made your sacrifices." Rotton said mysteriously. Sawyer lifted an eyebrow in inquiry.

"**What?**"

"The fight with the maid," Rotton began, lowering his head and striking yet another dramatic pose. "I'm aware of how highly you and Shenhua value your weapons. There's a closeness, a bond that ties them to you. As Shenhua said, they are companions. For anything to happen to your weapons would be the equivalent of losing a vital part of yourselves. When your chainsaw was broken in that fight, so was your spirit. You were shaking and clung to Shenhua. Shenhua, too, felt a sense of loss, though she tried not to show it at the time."

"**Not surprising... Shenhua has probably stared... death in the face... more times than you and me...**" Sawyer noted.

"As we can see," Rotton continued, "Shenhua still feels some loss from having one of her khukri broken in that fight. You managed to repair the damages to your chainsaw, but as we know quite well by now, it's not that simple with Shenhua's weapon."

"**Hold on... come back,**" Sawyer said. "**You said Shenhua and I... made sacrifices... but what does that have to do... with your trip to the island?**"

"You both proved yourselves in that fight, yet my guns remained unused through the battle. I did nothing. I want to prove my worth by helping a fellow compatriot."

"**You did enough for us... when you took a kick to the crotch... and showed us the dent... made in the cup,**" Sawyer reminded him, trying to keep a straight face at the memory. "**The maid could have finished the job... and killed Shenhua and me... if you didn't leap in front of us... and distract her... See? You did... something useful.**"

"I want to be more than a shield," Rotton urged.

Sawyer looked down, but she still didn't move her arm from its firm placement across the kitchen foyer. She lifted her head up to say something in return, but a shrill cry cut her off.

"Aiya!" Shenhua screamed from her bed. "You both deaf? Want me to crawl there? Turn off stove! I hearing kettle whistle for long time! All water probably steam by now! _Gàn_!"

Sawyer looked over her shoulder and down the hall.

"**Sorry, Shenhua...**" she apologized. She and Rotton had been so engrossed in their conversation that they somehow tuned out the relentless, irritating noise of the screeching kettle. Unbelievable.

Sawyer loosened her grip on the kitchen's foyer, confident Rotton wasn't going to make a mad dash down the hall without completing their discussion, and she walked over to stove, turning it off. The kettle stopped screaming and Sawyer took out a tea pot and cup. She poured the boiling hot water into the pot, mixing it with the ginseng.

"**... So you really want to... go through with this?**" Sawyer asked, pouring the tea into a cup.

"I know you are concerned, but there is no need to worry. There's a boat that leaves for the Philippines each week. If I work quickly, I can pack what I need in order to prepare myself and catch the boat by tomorrow morning. Also, before I leave, I shall be asking Shenhua for more information so I know just where to go when I'm in Mindanao. Have faith in my plans."

Sawyer carefully held the tea offering with a look of contemplation. She gazed at Rotton's face, and the man seemed eager for her approval.

The gothic woman sighed.

"**If you die... I get your Playstation.**"

The Wizard smiled, knowing that was Sawyer's special way of saying "I approve."

"I knew you would understand," Rotton said, cradling Sawyer's face in both of his hands before he left to speak with Shenhua. Sawyer slowly made her way to the bedroom, shaking her head.

She hoped Shenhua could talk some sense into him.

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

"What happen in kitchen?" Shenhua asked, seeing Rotton come through the door and Sawyer shortly follow after, holding a tray with an ornate tea cup and a matching pot.

"Ah, the kettle," Rotton remembered. "Sawyer and I were discussing something important."

Sawyer set the tray down on the nightstand beside the bed and gingerly handed a cup to Shenhua.

"Oh? Must be very important if you not mind such terrible noise. Thank you, Sawyer," the Taiwanese woman said, accepting the cup. "What you talk about?" Shenhua brought the cup to her lips.

Sawyer looked over nonchalantly at Rotton, already knowing what he was going to say.

"It was about you, actually," Rotton started.

Shenhua stopped mid-sip and raised an eyebrow.

"Really now?" Shenhua asked suspiciously, holding the cup away several centimeters from her lips.

Rotton took a deep breath and said, "Yes. I was thinking of the story you told us earlier, about your training in Mindanao and the man who forged your knives."

"And?" Shenhua pressed, taking another sip.

"I was wondering, have you contacted the bladesmith at all or know his whereabouts?"

"Aiya," Shenhua waved her left hand back and forth dismissively, "haven't seen Huo Niu since he give me knives. He very old when I first see him, already one foot in grave. He probably dead now."

Rotton slumped at that assumption, but then Shenhua said, "Then again, Huo Niu not ordinary person. Very strange. Could live to be the age of immortal for all I know." She shrugged and took another sip.

"So he could still be alive?" Rotton asked.

"Maybe. Any more questions, crazy boy?"

"Yes, actually," Rotton confirmed. "I wanted to know, exactly _where_ in Mindanao are the knife fighters you trained with? Have you contacted any of them, or your teacher, in the past?"

"Contact? Like call on phone? Oh, no. There be no phones where they are. The fighters all very traditional—that nice-talk for 'cheap'." Shenhua took yet another sip.

"As for where they are," Shenhua informed, "I put this way: If you go deep in forest and you not hear sound for long time, you right outside village. It also mean you going to die. Too much quiet mean fighter on guard duty looking right at you."

Rotton soaked in the tip, and Shenhua acknowledged him clinically.

"So you and Sawyer talk about this? Why you want ask me these questions?"

Rotton hastily gave her an answer.

"Sawyer and I agreed that she would stay here and help you heal while I go to Mindanao to track down the bladesmith who made your weapons. When I find him, I will ask him to melt down the pieces of your broken khukri and forge you a new blade."

Shenhua closed her eyes and kept the cup at her lips. Sawyer and Rotton braced themselves during the long silence, ready for an outburst in protest.

It was then that the Taiwanese woman attempted to stifle a giggle, before she threw her head back and laughed.

"Ahahahaha! You say you go to training ground all by self? HAHAHAHA!" The woman could barely keep a grip on her cup, she was laughing so hard.

Sawyer blinked and pursed her lips. Shenhua wasn't taking Rotton's statement seriously.

"Ah... yes," Rotton nodded. "Only if both of you agree with the plan. I don't want you or Sawyer to feel any resentment towards me."

"Oh, yes, Rotton, I fine with it!" Shenhua giggled, looking at Sawyer. "Long as Sawyer vote 'yes' with me, you go. Right, Sawyer?"

"**Uh... yeah...**" Sawyer said, momentarily grabbing the tea pot and peering inside of it, wondering if there was something in the ginseng that was making Shenhua so giddy.

"So it's agreed," Rotton said under his breath. "I'll go."

"Yes, crazy boy. Have fun," Shenhua snickered. "Call me when you get to island! Oooh, and when you see Master Tora, tell him Shenhua still think katana is giant butter knife! Heeheeheehee!"

Despite knowing that Shenhua thought his promise was just a joke, he decided it would be best for him to take her words literally. He stood up and excused himself from the room, already going over various scenarios in his mind and getting prepared for the journey ahead of him.

Sawyer closed her eyes and sighed while Shenhua was still in hysterics. So much for sense.

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

Later that night, Rotton crept through the dark apartment, being careful as not to wake Shenhua while he carried the small wooden box that contained both of the Taiwanese freelancer's precious khukris: the broken blade to be re-forged and its unscathed partner to serve as a model for the bladesmith, if need be. He slung a large duffelbag over his right shoulder and did as best as he could to coolly tip-toe to the door in the living room. He cautiously reached out to the knob and his fingers brushed the cold metal.

"**Forgetting something?**"

The Wizard nearly flinched and sharply looked over his shoulder, seeing a ghostly apparition rise from the couch.

It was Sawyer in her cleaning scrubs, sans mask and goggles.

"Sawyer, I thought you left for work earlier," Rotton whispered. Sawyer made her way over to him, holding up a cell phone.

"**Had to give you this... just in case...**" She handed over the cell phone and looked up at his face, able to make out his features in the dark. Though she would never admit it verbally, she also wanted to see the man off before he left.

"Thank you," Rotton said gently. As he began to turn back toward the door, he stopped when a thought crossed his mind.

"Sawyer, Shenhua went into deeper detail with you about her past training, correct?"

"**Yes...**" Sawyer said, unsure of where he was going with this.

"When I had asked her who sent her to train with the fighters, she said it wasn't important. Did she tell you who it was?"

"**No, actually... she didn't,**" Sawyer said honestly. "**She just... had a mean look... and shut down.**"

"I see," Rotton said. "Maybe I'll find the answer when I go to Mindanao."

"**Rotton... you're already testing your limits... with this trip. Lady Luck... can be a fickle woman...**" The Wizard understood her implications.

"I know," Rotton said, reaching out to brush his thumb across her cheek. "I shall be careful." He opened the door and stepped outside before looking over his shoulder one last time, stylishly pressing his finger to his shades.

"Good bye, for now."

"**Don't die.**"

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

The rays of the morning sun leaked into the room and struck Shenhua's face. The woman slowly opened her dark blue eyes, moaning lightly as she rose up and stretched. She observed that both sides on her bed were empty.

Strange, Shenhua thought. She knew Sawyer had to work last night, but it wasn't like Rotton to wake up this early. She immediately saw a folded piece of paper on the nightstand and picked it up, reading what the note entailed.

Sawyer, meanwhile, had just come back from work, coming in through the living room door.

What a long night, the Cleaner thought. Work at the Yellow Flag always meant good pay, but it was always so tedious to clean up all those bodies, as well as the fluids they expelled. A popping sound was heard as Sawyer stretched her back and neck. She was looking forward to a rest in bed after a night of hard work.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

Sawyer cringed at the sound and she could have sworn she saw a crack appear on her work goggles. Either a cat had gotten stuck in a car engine, or Shenhua just found the note Rotton left for her.

"HE WAS SERIOUS? AND HE _TAKE MY KNIVES_? SAWYER, YOU IN HERE? DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS AND NOT TELL ME?"

Sawyer quietly tip-toed backwards out of the apartment and shut the door.

On second thought, the bed could wait.

* * *

**A/N: **Tsk, tsk, Sawyer. Shame on you for not sharing.

Cell phones in the mid 90's – Obviously not like the cell phones we have now, but Black Lagoon has some anachronisms, so I would take this detail with a grain of salt.

Sigh. The previous Shenhua origin fanfic, _Myth_, was only supposed to be a stand alone story, but then some loose ends came back to bite me in the butt and I found myself wanting to make a companion for it.

Hence, _Legend_ was born.

I know the beginning and the general set up for this story was slow, but don't worry. The _wuxia _vibes and _Myth_-esque aura will pick up in Chapter Two.

Stay tuned for the next chapter. It involves more knives!

Cheers.


	2. II

**II: THE SWORD MASTERS**

"Rotton just call. Say he in Mindanao." Shenhua didn't sound very pleased. Sawyer "the Cleaner" twiddled her thumbs and looked off to the side nonchalantly, as though she had nothing to do with it. After hearing Shenhua's outburst hours earlier in the morning, the little gothic woman had finally mustered up the courage to come back home and sit at Shenhua's bedside.

"I tell him to come back, but he say he on important mission and hang up. So troublesome. I swear, when legs get better, I kicking his ass!" Shenhua swore.

"**That's mean...**" Sawyer droned, scooting a good extra foot away from her friend. The Cleaner could have sworn she just saw Shenhua's legs twitch under the sheets. Sawyer certainly didn't want to get kicked by accident.

"It not mean. It retribution," Shenhua said. She then placed her hands over her face and groaned. "Crazy girl, why you let Rotton go? He too stupid to go out on own! And with my knives!"

"**Rotton had a... plan...**"

"Does plan involve making cool speech in front of fighters?" Shenhua asked hopelessly, dropping her hands down at her sides. "Sawyer, why you not talk him out of it?"

"**I tried to... but he wouldn't budge. I thought you were going to... talk some sense into him... when he told you about it yesterday, but... you thought it was a joke.**"

"THAT NOT TELL ME WHY YOU NOT SAY HE SERIOUS!" Shenhua screeched, bending at the waist and grabbing Sawyer by the collar of her striped purple shirt, pulling the small woman towards her until they were looking each other in the eye. Sawyer braced her hands and knees against the mattress, careful not to touch Shenhua's legs.

"**He really wanted... to do this, Shenhua... He said something... about wanting to prove himself.**"

"What crazy boy have to prove?"

"**Well, you didn't... take him seriously... when he said he wanted... to do get your blade fixed... He really wants to help you out, but...**"

"But? Spit out, Sawyer."

"**I think he had... something to prove to himself... too... He didn't say it to me, but I think... he wants to prove... he's a warrior, I guess,**" Sawyer finished lamely.

Shenhua sighed and let Sawyer go, shaking her head in dismay.

"Crazy boy not need to make trip all the way to training ground for that," Shenhua proclaimed. "Just do good at hunting job in Roanapur."

"**Shenhua... why are you so opposed... to him being in... Mindanao?**" Sawyer asked with a tilt of her head, still on her hands and knees. The gothic woman had a good idea as to what the answer would be, but it was still worth asking.

"Sawyer, if he not die quickly, you know he going to learn very bad things about me on trip," Shenhua stated with a harsh look. "How you feel if Rotton say he wanted to go to Texas?"

"**I will... never... let him go... to Texas,**" Sawyer said defensively, pushing her nose against Shenhua's with her dark eyes widening in horror at the thought. Upon having her personal space invaded so suddenly, Shenhua instinctively grabbed the side of Sawyer's head and pushed the small woman off the bed. Sawyer rolled on the floor before immediately getting to her knees and resting her forearms on the bed, looking up at Shenhua.

"**NEVER,**" Sawyer vowed.

"Oh, it not feel good thinking about people prying into past, hmm?" Shenhua asserted. "Imagine my feeling now."

"**... Okay, I get... your point,**" Sawyer muttered, resting her left cheek against her forearms. She stuck out her index finger and began drawing circles on the bedsheets. "**But even so...**"

"What? You going to say he not look at me different? Not look at world different?" Shenhua said skeptically.

"**He'll still... be Rotton when he gets back,**" Sawyer reassured, "**just more... educated.**"

"Educated? That nice word you use for 'broken', Frederica," Shenhua said, using the chainsaw wielding girl's first name. "Assuming he get that chance if he not die first and my companions get lost forever."

"**He won't lose... your knives and... he won't die...**" Sawyer said, inwardly indefinite about her own words. "**He seems very dedicated... to getting your broken blade re-forged...**"

Shenhua eyed the girl critically, before letting out an exasperated sigh.

"Talk like this is no use," Shenhua said with a wave of her hand. The Taiwanese woman then reached down to run her fingers through the shaggy black mess of Sawyer's hair."Not like we can follow anyway. My legs not good and you have to clean for Chang _da ge_. Crazy boy on his own for now. Can only hope he do good job. Let see how he do."

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

The guide book Rotton brought did not lie about the searing heat. The man was cooking underneath his great black leather tench coat on one of the coastal towns of the island. He tried to ignore the humidity. Such a discomfort would not impede him on his journey to find the village of knife fighters.

However, he was becoming somewhat doubtful about reaching that village in the allotted schedule he had in his head. Whenever he went to ask for directions in the native tongue, the locals either gave him a pitiful look and shook their heads, or they paid him no heed at all. The man stuck his nose into his English-Filipino dictionary and arched an eyebrow. Maybe it had something to do with how he was pronouncing the words?

He took his eyes off the dictionary a moment and flipped through his guide book again. All Shenhua had told him about the location of the fighters was that if he went deep enough into the rain forest, he'd find them. Yet it wouldn't be at all wise to go into the rain forest without proper directions and advice from the local populace. Unless it was one of those places where you'd need to be lost to find it...

The silver haired man put the guide book away into his heavy duffel bag and scanned the area. It was one of the more hard-up towns on the island. At first glance, it wasn't all that different from Roanapur in structure, given the exception of an extra palm tree here and there. Instead of tuk-tuks, there was more favor for motorcycles with hooded sidecars mounted on the sides; the guide book had called them tricycles.

Also, there were no frequent gun shots like Roanapur. Rotton looked to his left and saw a man with a machete strapped to his hip. Hm, perhaps that was why, Rotton assumed.

He looked back at his language dictionary, carefully going over the words in his head. Confident he had his intended question memorized, he scanned the area again, analyzing the people from a distance and trying to read them, trying to see who had the information he sought.

It was then that his eyes came upon a small, frail old Filipino woman in a white and purple floral print dress lounging in a white plastic chair by a small, bright yellow shack. Her dark grey hair tied back in a bun, dark eyes gazing at no place and no one in particular, the hard lines of her face hiding any distinct emotion. She fanned herself lazily while a plain, crème colored bag hung loosely from the crook of her right arm.

Rotton blinked. The elderly woman didn't seem to have an intimidating aura, but she didn't seem all that welcoming either. However, the woman's advanced age could yield some interesting knowledge. Perhaps she could help give him directions. Rotton "the Wizard" decided to take his chances and walked up to the old woman. She looked up at him from where she sat, letting him know he had her attention.

"_Excuse me, miss,_" Rotton asked in horribly spoken Filipino, "_I was wondering, do you know of any knife fighters in the area?_"

The old woman looked at him through half-lidded eyes, saying nothing. Rotton's confidence slowly began to fade, thinking the woman was going to tell him to get lost. She surprised him when she revealed a good natured smile.

"I appreciate your effort, young man," the elderly woman said in heavily accented but understandable English, "but there's no need for that with me. What is it you wish to know about knives?"

A small ball of hope welled up in Rotton's chest. Finally, someone willing to talk to him.

"I only desire to know the location of any people who practice martial arts, preferably those involving blades," Rotton said.

"There are many martial arts being practiced in the islands," the old woman informed him. "Are you speaking in terms of skill? What class of fighter are you looking for?"

"I'm looking for the best," Rotton said. The woman regarded him with a cool glance, cupping her chin in thought.

"Ahh, I see. The best, you say? There is a village of such skilled fighters. If my memories serve me correctly, the place you seek is deep in the forests," she said.

Rotton inwardly beamed at the words while trying to keep his composure.

"There are trails on the island. Many have been formed over the years. Growing tourist industry and such... Yet that village still remains hidden. It is surprising."

"Are there any definite directions that will lead me to it?" Rotton asked.

"Not so little that you won't get lost," the old woman muttered, taking a pen and piece of paper out of her bag and scrawling down some words. She handed him the note. "Take that with you. Go to the town and address I listed at the top. Ask for Gregorio and tell them Constance sent you. Don't worry about what the rest says, just hand the note over to Gregorio when he asks for it. He'll give you more directions from there. If you are fortunate with your time, you will reach the village by nightfall. Use the tricycles when you can, but don't depend on them to take you all the way to the village. You're going to have to walk the last stretch on your own."

"I thank you," Rotton nodded and placed the note in his pocket. The old woman nodded back and sent him on his way.

A much younger Filipino woman in her mid-twenties walked up to the old woman, giving her a strange look.

"_Grandmother, why were you talking to that tourist?_" she asked in their native tongue. The granddaughter noted how her grandmother looked at the foreign man in interest as he got into the sidecar of the tricycle before it drove away. The granddaughter gasped.

"_Oh, no! You sent another one to that village?_" she whined.

"_That man has a very good eye if he managed to scope me out so soon._" The old woman grinned, taking her kalis out of her bag and palming it lovingly. "_But he's too trusting. Hopefully, he'll be more wary of his surroundings when the time comes for him to confront the fighters._"

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

An American woman with blonde hair and blue eyes walked slowly backwards, her light blue ascot and loose fitting white clothes waving softly in the breeze, a "Save the Children" logo emblazoned on the collar of her shirt. Behind her was a gray, dreary setting of rusted tin shacks and old buildings along the beach.

"Hello, I am Ally Strader. I am here in one of the most poverty stricken towns of the Philippine island of Mindanao," she spoke angelically. She went on to speak of impoverished conditions until she saw a teenage girl with black hair in a red tank top and shorts behind her. Ally Strader quickly walked up to the girl.

"It is already too late for this young woman, an immigrant from China..."

The teenager seemed disinterested in Ally Strader's ongoing description of how her parents died in a mugging incident and how she was left to fend for herself. In all honesty, the teenager looked less pitiful than Ally was making her out to be and looked more like she wanted to throw the condescending American into a wood chipper.

"And now, to earn an honest day's pay, this teenage girl must resort to prostitution in order to—"

It was then that the teenager gripped the back of Ally Strader's head and smashed the woman's face into the wall of a shack.

The scene panned to a smiling show host in a suit with a laughing audience behind him.

"Save the children?" snickered the host. "If they're all as violent as that kid, _we're_ the ones who are going to need saving. Now, for our next blooper..."

Shenhua paused the tape, using the controller, and Sawyer looked at the woman in adoration.

"_**You**_** knocked out... Ally Strader? Sweet...**" Sawyer completed the statement with a high-five to Shenhua's accomplishment.

"Not really knock out. Just hurt very bad. She probably need plastic surgery after that," Shenhua recalled. "She make up sad story about me being hooker to get sympathy, act all nice on camera. She really giant bitch when filming stop. Screaming at everyone like harpy."

"**I always knew... there was something off about her,**" Sawyer said. "**Those commercials were... always so patronizing. How old... were you there?**"

"Seventeen," Shenhua confirmed. "I remember day well. Not just because I beat up fake celebrity. It day I picked out companions. I so happy then..." She looked down at her lap in sorrow.

"**Rotton will... get it fixed...**" Sawyer said reassuringly.

"If fighters not kill him," Shenhua sighed. "Sometime masters go on guard duty."

"**Masters...?**"

"Best of best," Shenhua specified.

"**How many masters... are there?**"

"There Six right now, including my teacher, Liuyedao. Maybe Rotton be lucky he run into Master Tandang or Master Janrang. They more lay-back types, not have bad tempers. Or Master Iro, he be lucky for that too. Old Master Iro real grouch, but he not really violent."

Sawyer pondered how a master knife fighter can be considered "not really violent", but kept her silence as Shenhua went on.

"Oooh! Or Master Ling," Shenhua brightened. "He best option for Rotton. He play around with opponents a lot, not kill fast, so Rotton be able to talk then."

"**If he's... the best option... what's the worst?**"

"Liuyedao be very bad. Probably worst to take in fight. But, if it about guard duty, Liuyedao not as bad about it as..." Shenhua trailed off, biting her lip.

"**There's someone worse... than your own teacher?**"

Shenhua nodded and looked at the young woman forlornly.

"For Rotton sake, I really hope he not run into Master Tora."

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

It was nightfall by the time Rotton walked on a hidden trail in the middle of the rain forest. The cloak of night did nothing to cast away the humidity. Rotton had shed his trademark trench coat and packed it away in his bag, but he still kept on his shirt. The sleeves were rolled up and it was left unbuttoned in a futile attempt to keep him cool. He still wore his bulletproof vest, just in case.

His shoes were covered in dirt, his dark clothes very much in the same condition. His pale silver bangs clung to his forehead and the overpowering scent of sweat and bug repellent lingered on his skin. The chemical did succeed in keeping the smaller insects away, but every now and again, Mother Nature would express her disdain at his presence by flinging a bug the size of his hand in the middle of his face before he smacked it away.

Rotton stopped in the middle of the trail and sighed.

This was not cool.

He looked at his watch (the hands and numbers glowed in the dark), and thought about the progress he had made. The old woman, Constance, had said if time was on his side, he'd reach the village by nightfall.

It was now well into midnight.

Still, Rotton had made it this far in one day, so he liked to think time was being kind with him.

Breathing deeply and looking up at the foliage obscuring the moon, he decided to set up camp for the night. He was exhausted and needed to rest.

As he set his bag down and unzipped it, a sudden thought came to his mind. He moved his zipper back and forth, listening to the sound, then stopped. He took off his sunglasses and scanned the forest. It was quiet. Very quiet...

Too quiet.

He moved his head to the left and a flying dagger grazed his cheek, drawing blood.

"_Hahaha! Jackass, you missed!"_ a deep voice laughed in Cebuano.

"_Shut up! My aim was perfect! It was the timing that was off! He moved at the last second!"_ responded another voice.

A punch was heard in the dark and Rotton readied himself with his Mausers.

"_You fools, be quiet. He can't understand us, but he can still hear our voices. He's listening for our locations._"

"Noble fighters, please listen. Though I draw my weapons, I shall not be haste with my fire towards you if you lend me your ears. I only ask that you—" Rotton didn't get to finish and another flying dagger came his way. With a "ping" sound, the dagger was deflected off of his bulletproof vest.

"_You aimed for the vest? Moron, I'll show you all how it's done._"

Throwing stars fell from the trees and Rotton just barely dodged the onslaught, leaping in a zig-zag pattern to avoid the blades.

"_That's how it's done huh?"_

"_Not very impressive."_

"_A monkey could do better."_

"_... Shut up."_

The Wizard ignored the voices and stopped to strike a pose with his guns.

"Now, listen, all of you, I have come as a favor for— Uh!" Rotton groaned as two large throwing stars embedded themselves into his arms, causing him to drop his guns.

"_Master! Where those yours?_"

"_Yes. Now enough of the daggers and stars. I've disarmed him for you. Go in for close combat._"

"_Yes, Master!_"

Ten men all armed with long blades immediately dropped from above and surrounded Rotton. Trying to ignore the bolts of pain shooting up his arms from the stars, he quickly leaned down the reach for one of his guns. None of the fighters were going to give him the chance. One man swiped at Rotton's hands with a bangkon, just above the Mausers. The silver haired male yanked his hands back and moved in a series of awkward motions to avoid the long blades aiming for his head, arms and legs.

"Come now," Rotton tried to reason coolly, "where is your sense of conduct? Ten against one is hardly fai— Agh!" One of the fighters managed to swipe the back of Rotton's thigh.

"_Damn, this white devil moves fast! I wanted to cut the whole thing off._"

As Rotton continued trying to avoid getting slashed by the menacing knives, he wondered why their wielders wouldn't listen to his words. Then, it suddenly occurred to him.

"They must not speak English," Rotton said aloud to himself. He had to bite back a groan when another blade slashed at his right bicep, then another hit to his left forearm, the cutting motion knocking out the throwing star embedded there.

His dictionary, Rotton thought, he needed to get to it. But it was in the duffel bag outside the circle the fighters had formed.

Rotton ducked his head underneath a swinging ganyang before rising up and kicking the fighter in the gut, sending the man reeling back and, more importantly, making a hole in the fighting circle. Rotton leaped through the gap and rolled on the ground until he reached his bag, digging inside and grabbing his dictionary, quickly flipping through it.

"Verbs... Conversation... Expletives... My notes!" Rotton exclaimed as the knife fighters made their way over to him. "Ah... _I formally request of you that you listen to what I have to s—_"

The ten dollars Rotton had spent on that book was wasted when one of the fighters cut the book in half.

"_That is the worst Filipino I've ever heard in my life!_"

Rotton moved back to dodge another long blade and jumped as someone tried to take a low swipe at him from behind. One more inch and they would have gotten his Achilles tendons...

Now understanding that words would get him nowhere, he wanted to try an evasive maneuver that would let him slip outside the circle once more and let him get back to his guns. Unfortunately for Rotton, he wasn't going to be given that chance.

It took every fiber of Rotton's being not to scream when a bolo knife went straight through his right hand and pinned it to a nearby tree. As he slumped to his knees and grit his teeth in agony, he looked up and saw a fighter raising his sharp knife to deliver the finishing blow.

Rotton hissed and, on impulse, shouted, "STOP! I KNOW SHENHUA!"

"_Stop!_" came a firm command from the trees. The young fighter looking to take off Rotton's head stopped mid-blow, stopping an inch away from the man's neck.

"_Step away from him,_" the mysterious voice said again.

The fighters parted evenly on each side, making way for a man stepping out of the shadows.

"_Master Tora, do you know this man?_" asked one of the fighters.

"_I do not know him, but he claims he's acquainted with one of our own,_" said Master Tora.

Rotton looked up at the man, making him out in the blocked moonlight. The man was aged, in his sixties at the least, the hair a mix of black and white and tied into a high ponytail, dressed from the waist-down in some sort of traditional robe. Despite his age, the man was very fit with a muscular build, _irezumi_ tattoos decorating his upper body, stopping at the neck and forearms. He was probably Yakuza at some point, Rotton observed.

It was then that Rotton noticed the katana at the man's side, and the Wizard looked up at his face, seeing a very stern, disciplined and, worst of all, irritated scowl.

"You say you know The Myth?" Master Tora said in English, a slight Japanese accent underneath the words.

Rotton gave him an odd look. The Myth? Wait, that means...

"You say you know Shenhua," the Japanese man clarified.

"Yes, I do. I came to find the village to do a favor for her," Rotton said, tone surprisingly steady for someone with their hand stabbed into a tree.

"Shenhua sending some pretty boy to sacred ground to run her errands?" Master Tora said skeptically. "I've heard better stories from a drunkard."

"What I speak is the truth," Rotton said, digging into his back pocket with his free hand, pulling out his wallet and showing him a picture of Shenhua inside of it as proof that he knew her. The woman was wearing her usual red qipao and white silk jacket, showing a genuinely sweet smile in place of her usual predatory grins.

"Anyone can have a picture," Tora growled. "No one gets into the village without an invitation from a fellow fighter or having proven themselves worthy of entering our grounds. So far, you've shown neither."

"Shenhua finds me worthy of being a companion. Isn't that enough of proving my worth to you?"

"Companion?" Tora asked with raised eyebrows. "If she thinks of you as a... companion, what has she shared that's of any relevance to us?"

"I have her knives," Rotton said. "Check the duffel bag, they're inside the wooden box."

One of the fighters, who understood basic English, went to check the bag for proof, but Tora raised his arm to stop him and said, _"That won't be necessary._" Tora turned his attention back to Rotton.

"Let us say, for the sake of argument, that the knives you speak of are not fake. They are real. Why is it, then, that _you_ are here with one of our warrior's knives instead of the warrior herself coming with them?"

"Shenhua is injured," Rotton defended. "She couldn't come here in her condition. I took her knives here because one of them needs to be—"

In one swift motion, Tora pulled out his katana and pointed the tip at Rotton's neck.

"Allow me to get this straight," Master Tora started. "You come here, uninvited, in the middle of the night, tell me that one of our own is injured and proceed to inform me that you took her knives?"

Rotton sneered.

"If you're implying I hurt Shenhua to steal her blades, you are severely mistaken."

"Oh, I doubt a fool like yourself is capable of harming a fly, let alone The Myth," Tora stated. "But needless to say, I see no solid proof of you knowing one of our own."

When Rotton saw the master raise the katana, he remembered something Shenhua had told him before he left Roanapur.

She was joking, most likely, but Rotton deemed it was worth a shot. The man did say he wanted solid proof...

Quickly, before Tora brought the sword down, Rotton yelled, "Shenhua still thinks your katana is a giant butter knife!"

Tora pulled the sword back and his eyes bulged at the statement, his mouth contorting in a snarl.

"The hell did you just say, pretty boy?"

Only a few of the knife fighters could understand tidbits of English, but the expression on their master's face spoke loud and clear to all of them.

Tora was certifiably pissed.

Gripping the katana with his right hand, Tora used his left hand to rip out the bolo knife pinning Rotton to the tree. The Wizard moaned miserly at feeling the blade being yanked from his right hand, about to collapse in a heap on the ground, but Tora grabbed him by the neck and slammed him against the tree, rattling the leaves above. It was then that Rotton noticed Tora didn't have a left pinky and ring finger.

"You dare insult the weapon of my homeland?" Tora shouted angrily. "The very sword used by the samurai? A weapon immersed in legend? It is one of—No. It is _the_ greatest blade ever forged in history, and you, an uncultured gunman, dare say that one of our own fighters thinks it is nothing more than an oversized kitchen utensil?"

Rotton could not speak through the man's monstrous grip, so he nodded.

The fighters expected Tora to kill him then and there, so they were all very surprised when their master's expression softened.

"... That _does_ sound like something Shenhua would say to me," Tora confirmed. "Very well, I believe you. My students will carry you to the village."

Tora promptly dropped Rotton to the ground and put his katana back in its sheath, satisfied.

"_Pretty boy's story checks out. Pick him up and gather his belongings. We're taking him back home. We'll get someone to tend to his wounds and let him rest for the remainder of the night._"

"_But, Master... he's a gunman,_" whispered one of Tora's students, the rest nodding in agreement.

"_I don't like his choice of weaponry either, but he's a companion of Shenhua. If she trusts him enough to claim him as such, I feel comfortable letting him into the village._"

The scowling students picked up a tired Rotton and his items, being not-too-gentle with the man's body. With a shallow breath, a small smile made its way onto Rotton's face before he passed out.

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

When Rotton woke up slowly on a padded mat, he noticed many different things. The first thing he noticed was the soreness in his body. The second thing he noticed were the bandages covered his arms and legs, and he felt a band-aid on his right cheek. Third, he noticed was that he was in a small wooden shack, and judging from the sunlight leaking out overhead, it was the middle of the afternoon. Fourth, he noticed his bulletproof vest was gone and he was wearing nothing but his boxer shorts.

Finally, he fully noticed there were five gentlemen of advanced age, that Master Tora guy included, standing around and over him, eye him very critically. Well, that, and his sunglasses were nowhere to be found. Yet he found the men staring at him to be a more unsettling detail.

On his right, there was what seemed to be a short Thai man with a shaved bald head in his early fifties wearing loosely flowing maroon pants, his back tattooed with various Thai scripts. He turned to an extremely tall Javanese man next to him, had to be seven feet at the least, in a loose white T-shirt and jeans.

"_Damn, Tora's students fucked him up good,_" said the Thai man in the local tongue; naturally, Rotton didn't understand a word of it. "_Good thing you were here to stop the bleeding, Janrang. They nicked a few arteries._"

"_It's been a while since I played medic. It was refreshing,_" responded Janrang. Janrang then turned to Tora, who was across from him, on Rotton's left. "_Thank those fighters for me._"

Tora just nodded with crossed his arms. Two Filipino men, one Tora's age and one looking to be in his early nineties, flanked him on either side.

"_Don't be so quiet, Tora,_" said the younger of the two Filipinos, dressed in a similar fashion like Janrang. "_Are you still a little sore because gun boy here managed to survive or are you dwelling on the insults of Liuyedao's daughter?_"

"_Daughter? That's a rather loose term, Tandang,_" said the older Filipino, dressed in light robes.

"_Well, Iro..._" Tandang started, noticing the dirty look from the older male and quickly correcting himself. "_I mean, Mercado. I wouldn't necessarily say it's a loose term. There's proof of Liuyedao's loyalties that—_"

"_Liuyedao's loyalties aren't the ones in question,_" Iro/Mercado muttered.

"_I agree,_" Janrang said.

"_Why are you all so hard on Liuyedao's wife?_" Ling asked.

"_That woman is not his wife. She's not anyone's wife,_" Janrang corrected. "_The iron dragon belongs to no one._"

"_True,_" Tora agreed. "_Yet keep in mind, all of you, that dragons bode well in the company of serpents. It's the only thing that's kept Liuyedao alive all these years..._"

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Rotton finally spoke, raising the upper half of his body off the mat. "Forgive me if I interrupted a vital conversation, but may you please tell me where you have placed my guns? ... And, for the matter, my pants?"

"Oh, you're awake," Tora observed, squatting down on his haunches to look Rotton in the eye. "Your guns, and your vest and glasses, if you're wondering about that also, are in your bag; it's right there next to you." Tora pointed and Rotton saw it next to his left leg.

"We took the liberties of searching through it to make sure you weren't carrying a bomb and the like. You passed the search," Tora said. "As for your pants, they along with your shirt were shredded to mere rags in the fight. They were removed and thrown away while your wounds were tended to by Master Janrang over there. You're fortunate he was in a helping mood last night."

"Thank you," Rotton nodded to Janrang. "But..."

"You wallet is here," Tandang spoke up in his accented English, throwing it into the man's lap. "We saw the picture of Shenhua. Liuyedao would be proud to see she's grown so beautifully. Cute friend she has in the other picture, too. Kinda scary, though. Only Shenhua could hug a ghost."

"Sawyer's not a ghost," Rotton said sharply. He opened the large pocket in the wallet and saw that it was empty. "What...?"

"We took money," Ling said in slightly broken English, "Think of it as fee for having Janrang fix you up."

Rotton's eyes went half-lidded at the answer. Is that so?

Suddenly, a pair of old blue jeans hit Rotton in the face. Tandang had thrown them at him.

"Put those pants on, pretty boy. Can't have you running around with the village women and make us take care of a bunch of _mistiso_ kids in nine months," Tandang laughed.

Rotton ignored the somewhat vulgar statement and started putting the jeans on, suppressing a wince when tiny jolts of pain shot out from his multiple cuts every time he moved.

The masters sat in a half circle around Rotton, all of them sharing the same serious expression.

"Now, pretty boy, first things first," Tora said, sitting at the center of the half circle. "As you may well know by now, we are the masters of this village. I am Master Tora, that is Master Tandang, that is Master Janrang, that is Master Ling, and that is Master Iro."

The old Filipino man coughed.

"Or Mercado," Tora specified. "He grew tired of his title long ago for reasons unexplained. It's no matter of your concern. Now pretty boy, what is your name and why have you come here?"

"I am Rotton 'the Wizard,'" the man said without his usual flair. He was too tired for the dramatics right now. "I came here because one of Shenhua's khukri blades was broken in a fight. She's recuperating at the moment, so I came here to see if I could find the man who could re-forge her weapon."

The masters regarded the words with a slow nod, but they seemed skeptical.

"Her blade broke? How badly?" Tora asked, thinking it probably broke off at the hilt. "You say you have the khukri with you. Present it to us and let us assess the damage."

Rotton nodded and unzipped his duffel bag with his left hand, taking out the box that contained her khukri and the key to unlock it. The latches on the front opened with a "click" when he turned the key and Rotton held the box out to them, opening the lid and presenting the broken blade.

Immediately, all of the masters were horrified at the sight, as though they were looking at a mutilated corpse. In all their years, they had never seen a blade in that sort of condition. Even Tora's tough resolve shattered and he cringed at the sight of the broken khukri.

"It cannot be," Janrang started.

"How is this so?" Mercado asked.

"That is the Ang Kola khukri," Ling whispered. "It is known as the unbreakable blade!"

"How in the hell do you break the unbreakable blade like... _that_?" Tandang asked.

"What class of sword would be responsible for doing something like this?" Tora asked, gathering his senses.

Rotton closed the lid and said, "Well, it wasn't exactly a blade that did this."

"So it was a gun?" Mercado said distastefully.

"No, not a gun," Rotton confirmed, shaking his head.

"Then, what?" Tora asked.

"It was a person," Rotton informed them steadily.

A silence filled the small wooden shack before Janrang spoke up.

"A person... with a boulder?" Janrang pressured in a heavy voice, wanting more information. "What was this person using for a weapon?"

"No weapon. Well, no conventional weapon against the khukri," Rotton said.

"Exactly what 'unconventional weapon' was used?" Tora asked.

Rotton swallowed, bracing himself for their reactions to what he was about to say.

"... Teeth," Rotton said.

"What? Like crocodile teeth or shark teeth?" Ling asked. Rotton shook his head.

"No. Human teeth. It was bitten."

A cold, deadly aura filled the shack and Rotton could sense all the men had a deep urge to kill him at that precise moment.

"We don't take kindly to those sort of jokes, pretty boy," Tora growled.

"It's not a joke," Rotton tried to convince them. "Shenhua went up against a very deadly woman. Named after some sort of dog... Bloodhound, I believe... Yes, Bloodhound! The Bloodhound of Florencia."

The frigid aura began to recede.

"_The_ Bloodhound of Florencia?" Tandang asked. "That hardcore terrorist that disappeared from the FARC a long while ago? You better not be pulling our legs, pretty boy."

"I do not lie," Rotton said. The masters read his body language and tone of his voice, confirming he was telling the truth.

"Did she win?" Mercado asked curiously.

"No, but she survived the encounter," Rotton said. He decided it would be best not to tell them Shenhua was also shot in the legs by ex-Soviet military.

"Too bad she did not win. But still, to go and fight Bloodhound? Unbelievable, that a big name criminal," Ling complimented as he smirked.

"So that little brat grew up into quite a hunter, eh? Liuyedao will be overjoyed with the news," Janrang clapped his hands at the thought.

"It should bring up some memories from his own hunting days."

"Do you think Liuyedao will be concerned about his own student surpassing him? For Shenhua to take on a fish that big so early in her life, that's intimidating."

"Liuyedao's not that competitive. He'd be more proud than threatened. Maybe ask her for a sparring match to see how far she's come on her own. Just like the good old days."

Rotton listened quietly to the conversation, observing how jovial all these fighters were over the topic of Shenhua's hunting career. Seeing how passionate the masters were about the subject, Rotton supposed Shenhua adopted their attitudes toward being a freelancer while she was training here.

"You remember when she was little? When she fell out of the tree?" Ling reminisced, still speaking in English. "Liuyedao made her fight him in the ring for eight hours straight after that. Early morning into afternoon."

"I certainly don't forget that," Janrang nodded. "He broke her leg, heard the bone snap."

"And those were the easy days," Mercado observed grimly. "It got harder for her as she got older. Liuyedao showed no mercy. Broken legs, broken arms, broken ribs, cracked knuckles, flesh slashed to ribbons. Remember that time Liuyedao knocked her off the risen platform and she fell down the mountain? The girl was a walking scab for a while."

"What of the time Liuyedao took her to the smaller islands in the south?" Tandang remembered. "What was she, sixteen? It was one of Liuyedao's big tests. The locals are cousins to those in Roanapur, quite volatile. Knives and guns everywhere. I recall she was shot several times."

"She was, three times in the arm. They almost captured her," Tora recalled. "Liuyedao took me along to keep an extra eye on her. My job was only to observe, but it was quite difficult even for me to stay still. Those men were monsters, trying to violate her... but she killed them all before they could drag her back to their town. She was soaked in blood, had a terrible look in her eye when it was done. Liuyedao seemed satisfied with the results. I admit from what I saw, she fared decently against her first ambush attack."

"Please, stop," Rotton requested, holding up his hand and looking down. He didn't enjoy hearing about the sordid details of Shenhua's training, especially when she was so young.

"What, pretty boy? Too violent for you?" Tandang scolded. The knife masters gave the silver haired man a long stare before they all looked at one another and sighed.

"All right, all right, it is quite bad," Tandang confessed. "A lot of us didn't agree with Liuyedao's methods either. He was... very harsh with Shenhua. Even Tora didn't approve of some of his methods, and he was the one who trained Ginji the Manslayer."

"A lecture on violent training methods from a man who supports cockfighting?" Tora asked with lackluster. Tandang scowled at the Japanese man's reminder of one of his past times, but said nothing.

"We agree, Liuyedao was cruel at times," Tora said. "But it was, in all respects, to prepare her to become a freelance hunter. She suffered, we do not deny that, but in defense of our fellow fighter, Liuyedao's methods did pay off. If Shenhua can thrive in a wretched city like Roanapur, then it is proof that the training worked. It yielded impressive results."

Rotton looked off to side with a frown. The results may have been impressive, but at what cost?

"So how is Shenhua now? Aside from injury," Ling interrupted, looking for a change in subject.

"She was healing well when I left," Rotton said. "She's eager to get back into the field. I suppose it is connected to what she calls 'the spirit of the outlaw'. That is why I brought the knives, the broken one to be re-forged and the solid piece to serve as a model. I want to give them to Shenhua when she's better. Do you know where the man who forged them is? Huo Niu, I believe his name was."

The masters looked on in melancholy.

"Yes, we know of Huo Niu. He was a master bladesmith and he forged many of our weapons," Mercado said.

"Do you know where he is?" Rotton asked hopefully.

"Under a tombstone," Tandang intoned. "He died some time ago, of old age."

Rotton's posture deflated and he tried to hide his disappointment.

"However," Janrang interjected, "there is another man who can forge that blade for you."

Rotton's head perked up.

"Master Liuyedao, Shenhua's teacher, had taken an apprenticeship under Huo Niu. I can say with confidence that any blade made by his hands will be of the same condition as those that were made by Huo Niu," Tora said.

"But there more bad news," Ling said. "There a reason you have not seen Liuyedao with us. He not on island right now. He is abroad."

"Where is he?" Rotton asked.

"Liuyedao travels often. Has been doing more of it since Shenhua completed her training," Tora said. "We do not pry into each other's personal matters. It's none of our business where he goes off to, so we don't bother asking when he leaves."

"In other words, you can't tell me where he is," Rotton said lowly. The masters shook their heads.

"But now there's good news!" Ling exclaimed. "There one person who knows where he is, most likely."

The other masters looked at the Thai man like he was insane.

"_We are not sending this pretty boy to her!_" Tandang hissed in the local tongue. "_That would be murder!_"

"_Like we've never killed anyone before?_" Ling said. "_And you don't know if it will end in murder._"

"_It's likely,_" Mercado said.

"_But not definite,_" Ling said.

"_Even Liuyedao is more merciful than she is!_" Janrang argued.

"_But there is a chance she may be capable of mercy herself,_" Ling countered.

"_Not likely,_" Mercado said.

"_Still possible,_" Ling said.

"_... I say we send him to her,_" Tora supported. Mercado, Tandang and Janrang's jaws collectively dropped.

"_Tora, you too?_" asked Janrang.

"_Look at the boy's face. He came all this way, and he is dedicated to finishing what has set out to do. He has the resolve. He just needs a good lead, and keep in mind that it is for Shenhua. Can you imagine having your own weapons broken so severely? Can you not sense it? A part of her spirit is shattered; it needs to be repaired._"

The masters agreed unanimously at Tora's words. It was a high risk, but it would be unfair to withhold any valuable information that would help a fellow knife fighter. They turned their attention back to Rotton.

"All right, pretty boy," Tandang sighed. "Master Ling speaks the truth. There is one person who may know Liuyedao's whereabouts. Hell, if you're lucky, Liuyedao will be there with her."

"Her?" Rotton asked. "Who is she?"

"Shenhua's mother," Tora said.

"Her mother?" Rotton registered. "Does she know what happened to Shenhua while she was being trained by Liuyedao?" His voice was raised.

The masters looked at each other, sharing an expression of uncertainty.

"We do not know if she was _exactly_ sure of what was going on," Tora said. "She _is_ Liuyedao's lover, and she met him back when he was still a freelancer, so we assume she knew what Liuyedao was capable of when she sent Shenhua here to be trained by him."

"Her own mother sent her to be trained by Liuyedao?" Rotton asked, failing to mask the shock in his voice. "Why? Is he her father?"

"Liuyedao never told us in depth what Shenhua's mother had in mind when she sent her here. Something about the future, I believe," Janrang recalled. "As for whether or not Liuyedao is her father, that is still a topic of debate among us."

"A topic we shall not get into," Tandang said firmly. "Now, about her mother, she is in Kaohsiung, Taiwan. We will give you the address and you should be able to find a boat that will take you there in short time. Her name is Jin Long. Ask for her once you get to the given address and it's likely she will meet with you."

"I thank you for your help," Rotton said, cradling his chin in his palm in thought. So, her mother was the one who sent her to train with the knife fighters. It was no wonder Shenhua was so bitter when he had asked her about it.

Still, why was she sent in the first place?

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

The digital clock read 8:20 AM, the room dim and tinted a light blue-ish hue. The phone on the nightstand began to ring and Shenhua grumbled at the irritating tones. She looked down at Sawyer; the girl was resting next to her, a wild mess of black curls against the pillow while the chainsaw woman slept soundly. Shenhua swore that Sawyer could sleep through an earthquake. The Taiwanese freelancer sighed, leaning over lazily to pick up the phone.

"_**Hello? Shenhua, Sawyer? Can you hear me? I couldn't get any reception in the forest. I'm near a coastal town at the moment. I spoke with—**_"

"Rotton, you get your ass back here or I throw your video games away," Shenhua threatened.

"_**I shall come back to Roanapur soon enough,**_" Rotton vowed. "_**But I have to make a stop in Taiwan first.**_"

Shenhua furrowed her brow.

"What you need to stop at my homeland for? Thought you looking for fighters in Philippines."

"_**I found them already,**_" Rotton said, "_**We spoke with each other yesterday. Huo Niu is dead.**_"

"Oh, that so sad. Guess that mean journey is done. Now forget trip to Taiwan and come back."

"_**Shenhua, there's another man who can forge the blade for you! Your teacher, Liuyedao, was Huo Niu's apprentice. He wasn't on the island, but—**_"

Shenhua rolled her eyes and interrupted him.

"Rotton, Liuyedao my teacher. Let me deal with him for knives. That not your business."

"_**I'm in this rather deep, Shenhua. I intend to see it through.**_"

"Idiot boy, just come home. Why you need to go to Taiwan anyway?"

"_**The masters gave me a tip. They don't know where Liuyedao is, but they feel your mother in Kaohsiung knows where I can find him.**_"

Shenhua's irritated expression turned into a blank slate and her grip on the phone tightened to the point of almost breaking the device in half. She said absolutely nothing for a good ten seconds.

"_**... Shenhua? Are you there?**_"

"So you seeing my mother," Shenhua hissed, her voice filled with venom. "Hope you have fun."

She slammed the phone down without another word.

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

Rotton looked down at the cell phone, adjusting his sunglasses. The conversation did not go as well as he had hoped.

There was a slight morning breeze coming through, his hair and trench coat shifting in the wind. He still wore the jeans the fighters had given him, and was now wearing one of the spare buttoned shirts he had brought along on the trip.

"Pretty boy, the boat is going to leave soon. It would be best if you get a move on," advised Tandang. Tora came up to his side. Both men had decided to see Rotton off.

"Remember, ask for Jin Long when you find the address, but be careful around that woman. Her temperament can be volatile," Tora reminded Rotton. The silver haired man thanked them one final time before taking their advice and heading off toward the boat. The knife masters turned on their heels, intent on getting back to the village.

"_So, how do you think he's going to fare for the rest of the trip?_" Tandang asked while they walked away.

"_For his sake, he'd better not get into another fight in a foreign land,_" Tora muttered. "_When he tried to speak in another language, he didn't have the right dialect down. Horrible pronunciation as well. What's more absurd is when my students attacked him, he didn't even shoot. He started posing with his guns and kept on talking. The man has resolve, I'll give him that, but he's not incredibly bright._"

"_He must be a very lucky man if he survived, then,_" Tandang mused. "_So... how do you think Liuyedao is going to react?_"

"_What? In a fight against him?_"

"_No, I'm talking about his reaction when he realizes his grandchildren are going to be fathered by that pretty boy,_" Tandang smirked.

"_Grandchildren? Oh, no, that's not going to happen. He won't get the chance,_" Tora said as he shook his head.

"_Hmm? You think Liuyedao is going to kill him on sight?_"

"_No, not that,_" Tora said. "_We sent him to see the iron dragon._"

There was an uneasy pause between the men, and they grimaced as various scenarios went through their heads.

Pretty boy had better be careful.

* * *

**A/N:** 8,000+ words. I didn't think this chapter was going to be that long. Oops.

"Why so many freaking OCs that we don't care about, JAS?" I wanted a fight scene and a way to transition the journey from the Philippines to Taiwan. Also, it can be a theme. The masters show up in the second chapter of the first story (_Myth_), and then they show up again in the second chapter of the second story (_Legend_).

There are people who are gifted with the ability to speak multiple languages and dialects – I am not one of them. I am confident you are all a smart lot and used your imaginations for the italicized text.

Cheers.


	3. III

**III: SEARCH FOR THE SLUM EMPRESS**

Rotton held up his right hand to block the sun from his eyes. He winced as the soreness increased and analyzed the bandages, bringing the hand back down and turning it over. Front, then back.

Miraculously, that bolo knife he'd been skewered with back in Mindanao missed the bones, but it was a small consolation. It didn't change the fact that he had been stabbed straight through the hand. The muscle and tendon still needed to heal, and while the pain wasn't as severe as it had been at the moment he'd been injured, the aftermath still hurt. He could grasp items if he was motivated to do so, but the grip wasn't strong.

It _was_ his good hand, too.

Worse yet, the injury made it difficult to practice his poses. The smallest movements with that hand were miserable.

Resting his bandaged right hand at his side, Rotton dug into the back pocket of his pants with his left and looked down at the piece of paper he pulled out. The address to Shenhua's mother.

Rotton looked around, vexed. He'd been in Kaohsiung for several hours now, but the directions the masters had given him were vague, even vaguer than Shenhua's advice on how to find the fighters in the Philippines. He was lost in streets lined with small shops with signs he could not decipher. Though he had picked up some Mandarin phrases from Shenhua and had the confidence to talk to the locals without the need for a dictionary (he had taken it upon himself to study the language in an effort to understand what the Taiwanese freelancer was saying whenever she got annoyed with his antics and swore at him under her breath), he could only understand the spoken words, not the written script.

He contemplated calling Shenhua for guidance, but judging from her reaction during their last conversation, it was likely she wouldn't be in the mood to help. He was on his own for now.

As Rotton confusedly walked through the streets, he accidentally bumped into an old woman whose full height came at his torso.

"_Duìbùqǐ,_" Rotton uttered. The old woman's back was turned to him and she glanced over her shoulder at him. She wore a loose red robe of sorts, mid-length white hair strewn about her drooping face. Immediately, her eyes lit up and she hopped up as she fully turned towards him, clasping her hands excitedly.

"I have been expecting you!" the woman said in an aged voice, speaking perfect English. "You are searching, yes?"

"Ah, yes," Rotton nodded subtly. "Why were you expecting me? Unless... Did the masters call you? Are you Jin Long?"

"I am not this Jin Long you speak of, but I know you have been searching for a long time," she said, grinning. "You seem so lost, in need of guidance. Come in here, young man, and let Miss Shu show you the way." Not waiting for a response, Miss Shu gripped his wrist and pulled him into a nearby shop.

Rotton's vision adjusted to the new setting as the ding of the shop entrance reached his ears. He was pulled through a beaded curtain beside the store counter and looked around. The back of the shop was packed with numerous symbols and decorations with an astrological theme, incense burners scattered about, the room lit in a dim, odd yellow glow due to the small fireplace in a far off corner. In the center of the room was an elaborate table with engravings of eight diagrams surrounding a yin-yang symbol, a _taijitu_. Rotton recognized the combined design as a _ba gua_; Shenhua had the symbol hanging on the one of the walls of her apartment. He assumed Shenhua had it because she was a Taoist, though he never put much thought into its presence beyond that reason.

The elderly woman forcibly plopped Rotton down into a seat and sat across from him on the table, looking on in interest.

"I know much about you, foreigner," Miss Shu drawled, reaching over to a nearby bookcase and pulled out a large tome, placing it on the side of the table. She then reached into a small red bag and revealed several small stones and yarrow stalks that fit snugly in the palm of her hand, placing them on top of the book. "You've been through a great ordeal and are in need of finding the correct path."

Rotton restrained a disappointed sigh, now understanding what this woman wanted with him.

"Forgive me, Miss Shu," Rotton started, wondering whether or not that was her real name, "you have me mistaken for someone else. I have no interest in the occult." No interest was an understatement. Rotton didn't believe in it.

Miss Shu eyed him with a sly smile.

"Foolish boy, this isn't occult arts. It's the_ I Ching_, the _Book of Changes_. I've been divining for decades and I guarantee my readings are far more accurate than those crystal balls and tarot cards you're used to in the West."

"I may be a foreigner, but I am not gullible," Rotton stated, beginning to rise from his seat.

"You want directions to this Jin Long, do you not?" Miss Shu asked.

Rotton stopped getting up.

"It's important, I can see it on your face," she continued. "As a local, all I have to do is take a peek at that little note you have and I can provide all the information you need."

"That's very helpful...Yet, what price are you charging for that assistance?" Rotton asked. Ever since that elderly woman back in the Philippines gave him free directions to the village and he wound up becoming a human knife block, he was wary of strangers being so eager to help at a glance.

"You silly young man, I charge nothing for directions," the fortune teller chortled, holding her hand out for the note with the address. "I give you my word."

Cautiously, Rotton sat back down in his seat and handed the note over. Miss Shu placed it to her forehead in a dramatic gesture, humming. She then pulled the piece of paper away and looked down at it analytically, puckering her lips.

"Yes, yes, yes, I have the right information," Miss Shu said.

"Exactly where is the address?"

"Now that's quite complex," said the fortune teller, folding the note into a neat, tiny square.

"Complex?" Rotton asked. "You told me you have the right information."

"Yes, but you see..." Miss Shu trailed off, looking up at the ceiling absentmindedly. "It has just crossed my mind. In my advanced years, my memory tends to fail me at times. I forgot to tell you: Directions are free, but I don't give them out unless you buy a reading for 3000 New Taiwan dollars. So sorry."

Rotton just stared at her.

"So you're scamming me," he finally realized.

"Scamming? No!" Miss Shu said imperiously. "It's a hidden benefit."

"I shall not allow myself to be tricked like this. It may take longer for me to find Jin Long if I refuse your help, but I have decided I do not need your assistance. I would like the note back." Rotton reached forward to the small, folded square in Miss Shu's hand, but the elderly woman yanked it back and pinched the note between her thumb and index finger. She pointed the note at the fireplace with a smirk and Rotton stopped reaching.

"This is your only note, is it not?" Miss Shu taunted. "I can see on your face that you did not memorize the address either. You don't seem all that bright."

Rotton stayed silent, his jaw tight.

"I know you came a long distance. It would be a shame for you to add such a somber chapter to your journey, not finding who you've been searching for. Wondering what could have been..." she said, coming ever closer to flicking the note in the fireplace. "Then again, it would be quite interesting to perform libanomancy with a fireplace. What shall the smoke and ashes tell us?"

"... Very well, I shall pay for a reading," Rotton conceded regrettably, taking a checkbook out of the inner pocket of his trench coat. He proceeded to fill out a check, though there were some difficulties with the handwriting as he was using his left hand. The script was somewhat sloppy, but legible. He ripped it out and handed it over.

Miss Shu grinned smugly, taking the payment and placing it in the pocket of her robes. She still gripped the note tightly in her fist.

"This will take but a moment," she assured him, grabbing several of the _I Ching_ stones she placed on top of her tome. She cast the stones out, one after another, analyzing how they lined up in their respective columns and held her chin in contemplation.

"_Ku..._ _Gèn, Xùn,_" she murmured. "Mountain, Wind. Vision and persistence. You will need great endurance and adaptability in what is to come in your future, young man."

"Do I?" Rotton asked, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.

"You must be more aware of your surroundings. Take heed of the warnings given to you to avoid any unpleasantries. However, should you omit the warning and continue forward, you must pursue your goals with vigor and determination. It is the only thing that will save you from what lies ahead."

"I have vigor and I am determined. If that is your only concern for my journey, I shall keep these in mind. May I please have the directions I seek?"

"Patience, young man," Miss Shu chided seriously, lifting a hand to silence him. "You must listen carefully. In your path, there shall be a dragon."

"... A dragon?" Rotton asked. She must have been using a metaphor.

"A creature of metal, immovable and steady as the mountain. Cold and unyielding, the most stubborn element and the most vicious beast combined into a single entity, those who have any chance of surviving an encounter with this creature must possess a soul that flares with the heat of a mighty inferno and a will that is as solid as steel itself. If you do not have these qualities, you will be destroyed," she said cryptically.

"I understand," Rotton said half-heartedly. "I take heed to the words. Now, the directions?"

"_Hùndàn,_" Miss Shu muttered in Mandarin. Rotton understood the phrase, "asshole", but let it go.

"Do you have a map with you?" Miss Shu asked. The Wizard pulled one out of his bag and handed it to her. The fortune teller unfolded the map, taking out a red and blue marker and drawing circles.

"I confess to you I am not entirely certain of the address in your note, but I have a son in the next district over. His name is Tao. He knows those areas better than I," she tapped the red circles she made on the map.

"Can you call him for the directions?"

"My son is lazy. He never answers the phone," Miss Shu said begrudgingly, scrawling an address in the margins and pointing to a blue circle with her finger. "Go to his shop and ask. It's open around this time and it is not very far. Do not worry about his advice. It will not falter."

"... I'm not going to get stabbed, am I?" Rotton asked. The tone sounded as though he were asking about the weather, and Miss Shu gave him a bemused look.

"_Shénme_?" It was then that the elderly woman gave more thought at his bandaged right hand and the cut on his right cheek. Just what was this boy up to?

"Never mind," Rotton said, getting up and gathering his things before the woman could ponder further. As he pushed the curtain aside, he looked back over his shoulder.

Hesitantly, he said, "I... thank you for you help." The reading was unnecessary, he thought, but she did give him some assistance. Albeit at a price.

As he exited the shop, Miss Shu curled her lip and shook her head, remembering the name of the woman he was looking for.

Jin Long. The fortune teller hadn't heard that name in a long time...

What did that boy want with such a horrible woman?

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

"**Ow... Ow... Ow...**"

Sawyer's eyes squinted in pain as Shenhua pinched her ear.

"You could have prevent this," Shenhua hissed, letting the body disposal expert go.

"**Him being dropped... on his head... when he was a baby?**" Sawyer said sarcastically, rubbing her ear.

"Not in mood for stupid joke, Sawyer! You know what I mean! You... He... Now... _Tā māde niǎo_!"

Sawyer's eyes twitched a centimeter at Shenhua's screeching. The sound was worse than when the Taiwanese woman had found out Rotton left for Mindanao.

"**How many times... do I have to say it? I couldn't... get through to him... He wanted to do this... no matter what.**"

Shenhua threw her hands up in frustration before turning over and burying her face into a pillow, screaming and swearing. Sawyer haphazardly lifted a hand and touched Shenhua's shoulder.

"**Why are you so... upset? You've been... cursing all day... What did Rotton... say to you... when he called?**"

Shenhua lay still for a moment before she turned her head a few inches to reveal a somber eye. She mumbled something in her native tongue and Sawyer tilted her head.

"**What was that?**"

Shenhua mumbled again. This time in English, but the words were still unintelligible.

"**Shenhua... I can't... understa—**"

"My goddamn mother," Shenhua said clearly, lifting her head up and scooping her arms underneath the pillow. The woman's hair was an absolute mess, black strands strewn about, her eyes heavy and lips forming a prominent frown.

Sawyer's mouth formed an "o" shape upon understanding what Shenhua had said, before saying, "**... I didn't know... you had a mother...**"

"How you think I born, Sawyer? I come out of turtle egg?" Shenhua snapped.

"**I meant...**"

"I know what you mean," Shenhua sighed. "Never talk about her. Not want to even think. Then Rotton call up in morning and tell me he going to see her so he can get knife fixed by old teacher. Says teacher Liuyedao on trip and only my mother know where he is, so he tell me he go see her. Stupid..." She didn't finish the insult and buried her head in the pillow again.

Sawyer blinked. It was difficult to see Shenhua like this. The Taiwanese woman was the epitome of the freelance hunter. Fierce on battlefield, passionate about the art of killing, smiling in the face of death, but that wasn't the Shenhua she was seeing right now. This Shenhua was wounded, sorrowful, every bit as broken as the knife Rotton, and the Cleaner herself, wished to fix. The hunting community would be in a hysterical fit of laughter if they saw Shenhua now.

"**I'm... sorry...**" Sawyer croaked pathetically.

Shenhua lifted her head up and looked at her with an empty smile.

"You have nothing be sorry for, Frederica. You do nothing to me, no harm..." she whispered, looking down. "You not one who send me away."

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

Staring. It wouldn't stop staring.

Cold eyes and a vicious snarl, razor sharp claws guarding with a death grip, a serpentine body winding, coiling, waiting to strike anyone with the foolish desire to take away the treasure that was rightfully its own. It lacked the tranquility of its brethren. There was no sense of grace or mystique, only raw power and brute force. It was beautiful in its ferocity; indeed, it was very beautiful, but unnerving all the same.

The meek, middle-aged Taiwanese shop owner reached out with a shaking hand to turn it away, but couldn't bring himself to touch it, as though he were afraid to incur its wrath if he laid a hand upon its form.

A traditional Chinese dragon carved out of iron, there was a metallic shine glinting off of its scales. The base of the 12 inch sculpture was the peak of a mountain. Its body was coiled and winding behind a rectangular golden frame with a glass covering, intended to store a wallet-sized photo. Claws gripped the edges of the empty frame and the head hung over it protectively, steely eyes staring straight ahead, as though challenging anyone who dared to take the frame, or the photo it was made for, out of its hands.

The shop owner silently cursed and looked away. Stupid trinket. Of all the things in his shop, it was that specific item that made his skin crawl. He didn't even remember ordering it, or unpacking it, for that matter. The damned thing just showed up on a shelf one day and took root in his shop.

He wasn't the only one intimidated by the beast, apparently. His customers, mostly tourists of the Western variety, shied away from that dragon and gravitated toward the other zodiac animals, a statue of a Taoist immortal or a Feng Shui compass. It was not a fear of dragons in general. People did buy the _other_ trinkets, after all. It was just that no one ever wanted _that_ specific dragon. It was as though there was some force that naturally made people want to distance themselves from it.

He sheepishly stared into its eyes and tried to gather the courage to turn it away. He squealed girlishly when someone tapped him on the shoulder and turned around, seeing a tall, silver haired man with a cut on his right cheek wearing sunglasses and a dark trench coat, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

"Excuse me, sir. Miss Shu told me I could locate her son at this residence. Are you Tao?"

Tao whimpered and stepped back, waving his hands in panic. Seeing a tall man dressed in black did not bode as a good omen.

"Another one? Listen, white boy, if you got a shit reading from my crazy mother, it's your own damn fault for wasting your money! Don't take it out on me!" He stumbled backwards until he flipped over the counter and shakily picked himself off the floor. Just his luck, there was no one else in the shop to serve as a witness. "L-listen! Don't you take another step toward me! I swear, I have a sword laying around this shop somewhere!" Tao looked back and forth wildly, scanning the interior for the aforementioned blade.

"There is no need for that. I do not wish to be stabbed again," the darkly dressed man informed him coolly. "Even if I am aware it is, in all probabilities, an imitation weapon for decoration purposes."

Tao slowly dropped his hands at the words, wary of the man's calmness.

"I do not sell imitations here. They're all genuine," Tao fibbed. "Who are you and what do you want? And what do you mean by 'stabbed _again_'?"

"I am Rotton 'the Wizard'!" In a grand motion, Rotton seemingly pulled out a note and a marked map out of thin air, whipping it onto the counter. "This address, I need directions." He tapped the note for emphasis.

Tao, not caring that this strange wizard man neglected to answer his question about the stabbing, looked at the note curiously before a naughty grin crept onto his face.

"O-oh, that address?" Tao asked with an odd laugh. "Not too many men I know would be so open about finding that place. You sure that's where you want to go?"

"I am certain. It is vital that I locate this residence as soon as possible," Rotton affirmed, not noticing the sudden lecherous gaze of the shop owner. Tao shrugged with a laid back smile.

"Well, all right, then. It's your money. Spend it how you want," Tao said. Rotton had no idea what he was talking about.

Tao was about to give Rotton the directions, yet a sudden thought came to mind when he looked beyond the Wizard's head and saw a trinket on the shelf behind him. The shop owner grinned deviously and rubbed his hands together.

"Hey, wizard man, how badly do you want directions?"

"I've traveled very far," Rotton sighed, mentally preparing to reach for his check book. "I would like to find my way quickly."

"Then I got a good deal for you, wizard man! I'll give you the directions, but first, I need you to take something off my hands for me."

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

"**So... your mother was the one... who sent you train... on the island?**" Sawyer asked, sitting crossed legged on the bed by her friend.

Shenhua nodded with a grimace.

"**Why?**"

"She say it for my future," Shenhua scoffed. "When I child, she say I not understand then, but will later. It many year since then and I still not understand."

Sawyer hung her head in thought, pursing her lips. There was another question tugging at the back of her mind, but she had to be delicate about its execution.

"**What kind of woman... was she like?**" Sawyer asked, almost regretting the words when Shenhua glared at her. Perhaps that question could have been more delicate...

After a moment, Shenhua's expression softened an iota, but she still maintained a frown. She supposed after all their time together, she could share the intimate details with Sawyer. The girl was a close companion, and it wasn't as though Rotton was not finding out the secrets for himself in Taiwan. Both of her friends may as well be on the same wavelength.

"She was..." Shenhua trailed off, her voice restrained. She had difficulty finding the appropriate words without using expletives. "Was a prostitute, but she not work at great house. Mostly work in street or out of home. Very dangerous. Never know what psycho you meet in that business, but it make money. She refuse to work with the great house, even though it little more safe; they take cut of your pay. We very poor, so we take what can get back then."

"**What did... you do...?**" Sawyer asked carefully.

"For money? Sell fruit," Shenhua admitted. "She hand a basket full of fruit to me and that what I sell for that day. Not really know back then how she get them, but now I guess she probably sleep with vendor for it. It not proud existence, but it how she survive... we survive." Shenhua's eyes glazed over in reminiscence.

"Money I make meager, but helped when added to what she make. Plus, being busy with fruit job keep me out of trouble. Well, _more_ trouble," Shenhua said, scratching her cheek with a wry smile. "I not evil kid or anything. I just sometime get in fight with other street children, and I collect small knives. My mother not like that very much. She not like me collecting weapon. Would take them away and spank me for it... but I still collect them anyway."

Shenhua paused for a moment, collecting her memories. Sawyer waited patiently.

"She protect me, you know," Shenhua finally spoke. "She strong woman. Was hooker, but not roll over on back for anyone. She only take so much crap. She act even worse if someone mess with me. I remember, one of her client visit home and he pat me on head when he think my mother not looking. Gesture seem innocent, but I notice the look in his eye not very good when he do it. My mother saw it. She not like it."

"**What did... she do to him?**"

"She castrate him and leave him in street," Shenhua chirped. "Client must not have good history because he not go to police when it happen. Not that it help much if he did. Cop in our area look other way if price is right. Like Roanapur, you know how it go. Anyway, it thing like that she would do if someone even look at me wrong way."

"**That is... quite vicious,**" Sawyer said, raising her eyebrows in appreciation.

"That nice way to put it. She very mean, very bad. When I little, I think her eyes made out of steel because they look so cold. But they not always be that way. They become soft when she look at me. She always be calm when we by ourselves and she not working, or when we went to the temple together."

"**Sounds like... she cared about you... a lot,**" Sawyer said.

"That what I thought too," Shenhua growled, gritting her teeth. She balled up the bed sheets in her fists. "Then one day, teacher Liuyedao visit her. He visit her every few months, so I think it nothing. But next thing I know, she pack my things and tell me I have to leave!"

Shenhua's hands began to shake.

"Liuyedao say to me I his daughter and my mother want him to teach me knife fighting, but before I leave, my mother say she not even sure if he my father. Only thing important that he think he is, she said. Then I get sent to island and my life living hell for next nine years!" Shenhua screamed.

"**But... you became a great fighter... because of it,**" Sawyer said, trying to calm her down. It didn't work.

"That only good thing that come out of it," Shenhua hissed. "That only reason I not hunt down teacher Liuyedao and kill him in sleep! He huge bastard, but at least he honest with me when train. But my mother... _chòu biǎozi_... 'Only doing what best for you. This for your future'! My future? Getting shit beat out me every day and stinking like rotten blood? I on that island for nine fucking years and she not even bother to visit! She not even call nearest town or write letter! Never contact me! Never bother to ask how I doing at all! Like I not exist!"

Shenhua let go of the sheets and covered her face with trembling hands, trying to come down from her tirade. Sawyer reached out with a hand to touch her cheek, but Shenhua quickly batted it away.

"When she send me away, she talk like she doing big favor. I see now that it not for me. She probably get sick of taking care of me and push me off on teacher Liuyedao. All she want to do is get rid of me. Knife fighting just convenient excuse." She dropped her hands at her sides and leaned back against the pillows, breathing deeply.

"**... Did you ever try... to contact her when you were... done training? To reconcile?**"

"Why bother?" Shenhua said listlessly. "When I child, I love her. Thought she loved me too. Then she send me away and never see me again. She send me away to Hell, and when she send me away, she send my love away. Doing that, she reject me and my love. That how it is? Fine. I love her when I was little girl, but I not little girl anymore. Far as I concern, that bitch dead to me."

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

As night fell, Rotton cradled a small iron dragon statue/picture frame combination with his left arm. Tao had not only given him directions, but he had also given him the dragon— for free. The Wizard momentarily wondered why that shop owner was so eager to be rid of it, but the thought didn't last long as he took in his current surroundings.

This part of town seemed shadier than the rest of Kaohsiung, dimly lit alleys and severely cramped living quarters not unlike those back in Roanapur. However, what the Wizard noticed in this area were the... scantily clad women of questionable morals, specifically the three of them occupying the front of the rather large building he was standing in front of.

"A brothel," he said incredulously, looking down at his note and back up at the building. How that little detail managed to slip the mind of the knife masters was something Rotton couldn't comprehend. Perhaps they were concerned about him having preconceptions about Shenhua's mother? But then, why withhold the information when he was going to find out about her residency anyhow?

He didn't have a chance to ponder further when the girls out front spotted him and walked over.

"Who you, handsome boy? Come here for fun?" said the first girl, wearing a yellow dress, in broken English. She placed a hand on right shoulder.

"Not here for fun," Rotton said airily, hiding the nervousness in his voice. He was clumsy when it came to these sort of matters.

"You foreigners, so repressed," chided the second girl in a dark green dress, reaching for his left shoulder. "Not be modest. We know what you want."

"I'm doubtful you know what I want," Rotton said as steadily as he could.

"Oh yeah?" asked the third girl in a pink dress, reaching up to cup his chin in her hand. "You real freak? Sure you can find something here."

"Actually, I was planning on going inside," Rotton said, his nervousness drifting away as his mind came back to his mission.

"Naughty boy, why you not say so sooner? Making us come all way over here to see you," giggled the girl in yellow on his right shoulder.

"I'm looking for a woman named Jin Long. Do you know her?"

At those words, the girls moved away from him, somewhat surprised.

"What you want with boss lady?" asked the girl in green.

Rotton noted the title. Boss lady. So Shenhua's mother looked after these girls?

"I have private business to attend to with her," Rotton said.

"You must be bigger freak than thought if you have meet with Madame Jin Long," said the girl in pink. The girl in green nodded in agreement.

The girl in yellow, however, laughed heartily and pulled on Rotton's arm, dragging him away from her compatriots.

"I take you to her!" she squeaked.

"Ah, thank you," Rotton said, surprised at how willing this girl was to help him. He tried not to stumble over the wooden steps that came before the entrance and burst through the doors. The interior wasn't anything special; it just seemed like an ordinary, run-down dive bar with an occasional patron and nonchalant bartender.

"This place doesn't look as big inside as it does out," Rotton muttered aloud.

"This just front! Real place here," said the girl as she pulled him around the bar to a large brown door with what Rotton assumed was the Chinese equivalent of "EMPLOYEES ONLY". She pulled out a key from her cleavage and unlocked the door, quickly getting behind Rotton and pushing him into a corridor.

"This way! This way! Hurry, handsome! Path is long, but worth it!"

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

Sensuous music played throughout the room, various tables packed with tourists, locals and, most importantly of all, women in skimpy attire holding onto the men's arms or sitting in their laps. Should the customers prefer it to be so, they drank and made conversation before the inevitable trip upstairs, where they would spend the remainder of the night—or however much the patrons were willing to pay. The lighting of the interior was tinted the deepest tones of red, the black and gold décor reminding one of the setting inside the palace of an old kung fu epic. The appearance of the _Tianlong_ was a high cut above the rest of the brothels within the vicinity, and the service ever more so; the girls were good and well worth the money.

Though many bawdy acts of the most depraved class were sanctioned within the brothel walls, there was a zero tolerance policy for roughing up the merchandise. For the madame of the house was a very strict woman, and as such, she made it known that the highest of prices would be paid for damaging anything under her possession.

A reminder of this unwritten rule flew over the wooden rails upstairs and crashed down onto one of the tables in the center of the room, toppling it over. The music literally came to a halt. The patrons and prostitutes looked at the body that had been thrown from above, the face planted firmly on the floor. The body twitched and there was a miserable sob as blood leaked onto the carpet. One of the prostitutes gripped the shoulder area of the black T-shirt the man wore and turned him over. There was a collective shudder between the men in the room as they saw blood pouring out of the unzipped fly of his pants, and nothing else.

As though on command, everyone looked up to where the man had come from. Emerging from the shadows of the hallway on the second floor, a Taiwanese woman in her early-mid fifties stood at the top of the staircase, dressed in an impressive black qipao with gold inlays with an obsidian fur stole about her shoulders. Her black hair, which greyed at the tips and roots, was pinned up behind her head, elaborate pins and two black hair sticks with gold engravings crossing each other to keep it in place. Her lips were a deep shade of red and accented the fair color of her flesh. Despite the creased lines of her aging face, she was still quite beautiful.

Well, she would have appeared more beautiful to the people in the room below, had her dark, jaded eyes not looked so cold and her mouth not curled in a manner that made her look spectacularly bitter.

"_So troublesome. Now blood has to be washed out of the carpet,_" she muttered to herself in Mandarin.

A bulky bouncer wearing a Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts grabbed the castrated man off the ground, placing a garbage bag underneath him to catch the blood, and looked up at her.

"_Madame Jin Long, what would you like us to do with him?_" the bouncer asked.

"_That vermin? Don't worry about it. No one important, just a junkie," _She sighed and crossed her arms. As an added benefit, she had the local police paid off for another five months. _"Take him to Zhou's great house. That annoying man has been pestering me to send him another eunuch for ages. That one is no looker, but Zhou has made due with worse_."

"_Shall we remind Zhou to send you a check?_" the bouncer asked as he dragged the mutilated man across the room and toward an alternate exit.

"_Please do,_" the madame said.

A Vietnamese girl in red frills came up behind Jin Long and the madame turned toward her. The girl appeared to be no more than fourteen years old, looking down at the ground and shaking like a leaf, the entire right half of her face beaten to a purple pulp.

"_M-Madame... what do you want me to do now?_" she asked weakly.

Jin Long lifted an eyebrow at the question.

"_You think I want you to work like that? Don't be so stupid,_" Jin Long scolded, raising her right hand and pointing down the hall over the girl's shoulder imperiously. "_After what that lewd worm did to your face, you won't be earning a single dollar. Customers don't like to be reminded they're screwing damaged goods. Just go to your room and tend to the bruising_."

"... _Thank you, Madame._"

"_You have no reason to thank me. Now leave,_" Jin Long commanded harshly. The girl thought she had picked up a sense of self-contempt in the madame's tone, but she dared not comment on it and went to her room.

As the girl faded out of Jin Long's line of vision, the madame turned back to the audience in the room below and noticed just how quiet the place had become.

"_Ah, I made quite a scene,_" whispered Jin Long to herself. She'd have to remedy that.

In a fluid, sensuous movement, she stretched out her hands and placed them on wooden banister, tilting her chin up in a proud motion.

"_Gentlemen, why are you all so silent? Are you not enjoying yourselves?_" she shouted.

The patrons, not wanting to incur her wrath, raised their drinks and cheered to please her.

"_Oh, so you're having a good time? I was worried my little tiff scared you all._" Her steely eyes widened and she bared her teeth in a joyous gesture. The smile appeared to be more of a snarl. It was yet another reminder to the patrons not to cross any lines in her domain.

As Madame Jin Long continued to talk with her audience, Rotton "the Wizard" had met the end of the long corridor and was pushed into the room.

"Oooh, iron dragon come out of her cave today! Make it easy for you, handsome," whispered the girl in the yellow dress behind him. Rotton gave the girl a questioning glance. "Iron dragon"? What sort of name was that?

Rotton looked up at the woman at the top of the staircase and his jaw dropped. There she stood above the crowd striking a firm stance and speaking in a voice that demanded and caught the attention of everyone in the room, a fierce gleam in her eye that exuded raw power and intimidation. The way everyone paid heed to her words and looked on intently, it was as though she were an empress.

"That's her?" he asked hoarsely. Putting the dragon statue away into his duffel bag, the Wizard quickly pulled out his wallet to look at Shenhua's picture and held it up to compare with the woman standing in the distance.

Either that corridor he went through was a portal in time and he was staring at Shenhua twenty years into the future, or that woman at the helm was her mother.

The crowd released one final cheer and the music finally resumed, signaling the customers to go back to their affairs. Jin Long smirked, seemingly satisfied. For a moment, the upward turn in her lip faded when she laid eyes on a silver haired man below wearing sunglasses and a trench coat, staring at her. She cocked an eyebrow and blinked once in disinterest. Strange man.

As she turned on her heel and walked away, the girl in yellow giggled.

"Go follow, handsome. You want to see boss lady, yes? Now your chance."

Rotton took the words to heart without question, dashing through the crowd and going towards the stairs.

As the girl in yellow looked at him run, she leaned back against the bar and tittered, waiting to see whether or not the man in sunglasses would come back out.

Never had she seen anyone so eager to take the road to death.

* * *

**A/N:** The _I Ching_ – I'm sure any practitioners can see my knowledge of the subject is minimal. I confess I skimmed over a divination book and went cross-eyed trying to understand the precise reading methods of the _Book of Changes. _I eventually just went straight to the hexagram meanings because that's all I really wanted for the chapter.

Diviners take no offense. This chapter is not implying all fortune tellers are scammers – Rotton just has terrible (or phenomenal) luck.

Cheers.


	4. IV

**IV: WILL OF THE IRON DRAGON**

Madame Jin Long walked languidly down the dark hallway leading to her room, a red lantern dangling in the corner at the end of the passage, an emblem of a dragon hanging above the single, lonely door. Passing by the two sharply dressed guards she had stationed near the entrance of her room, Jin Long went to open it.

"Jin Long!"

She looked over her shoulder with half-lidded eyes. There was only one person she allowed to call her on a first name basis, and the darkly clad Caucasian male that was running in her direction was not it.

The guards moved in front of the man, blocking him off and taking out their pistols. Rotton stopped in his tracks and stood up straight.

"Please put away your arms. I mean no harm to the lady. I only wish to speak with her."

"Like we never hear that before," said one of the guards.

"What I speak is the truth, I wish only to talk. I have very important business to attend to," Rotton said urgently. The other guard spoke up.

"'Important business,' is that what you call it? If you want woman, go down stairs for picking. The madame not interested in you."

"Indeed," Jin Long muttered in English, turning back around to open the door. "If you looking to sleep with someone, see one of girls. Otherwise, get out."

Rotton silently noted that Jin Long, like her daughter, spoke in a broken pattern, but the madame's voice seemed lower and more menacing.

"It's not about bordello work," Rotton said, "I came all the way from Roanapur as a favor for Shenhua!"

Jin Long's hand froze as it reached for the knob.

"Haha, nice try, white boy. The madame doesn't know anyone by that name!" The guards laughed in unison until Jin Long put her hands on their arms and gently pushed them out of her way, staring into the shades of Rotton's sunglasses.

"A favor for Shenhua?" Jin Long said evenly. "And from Roanapur? That quite long way to come for a woman."

She pulled away from his face and glanced at him sideways, pursing her lips.

"Your weapons, give to me," she demanded suddenly, holding out her hand and curling her fingers inward.

Rotton blinked. The woman didn't even pat him down. How did she...?

"I've spent enough time in underworld to know a gunman when I see one. Hand over," she commanded.

"How do I know you will not shoot me with my own weapon?" Rotton asked.

"I have two guard with me. Why I wait for you to take out guns and then shoot you when I could tell them to kill you now?"

"... I suppose I can agree with that logic," Rotton conceded. Sighing, he took out both of his Mausers out of his trench coat, but not before unloading them in front of her eyes and handing them over.

Holding up one of the guns, the woman laughed cruelly as she looked at it.

"_Zhè shì shénme làn dōngxī?_"

Rotton didn't show it, but he had just taken a small hit to his pride. She had more or less called his gun a piece of crap in Chinese.

"Okay, that settled," the madame said as she handed his Mausers to her guards. "You get those back later. Now, come in. You eager to talk with me, yes?" She opened the door to her room and curled her finger in a "come hither" motion.

"Wait, aren't you concerned about my bag?" Rotton asked, holding it up.

"That too obvious, and you look too flashy to succeed at being sneaky type."

Ignoring the comment, Rotton followed her and shut the door behind him, leaving the guards outside.

The "room" was more of an apartment, nearly the size of Shenhua's residence back in Roanapur. They were currently standing in what was the living room, but Jin Long quickly led him down a hall and into her bedroom. He looked around at the interior. The décor was a balanced blend of red, white and gold. There was an impressive cherry wood vanity in the corner of room and a large bed in the center with blood red blankets and golden edges. It had to be king sized.

"Now, what is it that gunman like you has to say about this Shenhua?" Jin Long asked, slipping the black fur stole off her shoulders and tossing it carelessly onto the vanity. She turned on the lamp on desk.

"_This_ Shenhua?" Rotton asked aloud. He immediately shook it off. Perhaps it was a language error on her part. "Actually, it is more complex than that. You see, the primary reason I have come to you is because I need to know the location of the knife fighter, Liuyedao."

"Oh, yes, Liuyedao, I familiar with him," Jin Long nodded, facing him and tapping her cheek in thought. Rotton noted the sudden change in the tone of her voice. It was more light-hearted and jovial, a sharp contrast to the coldness she regarded him with earlier in the hall. "He big name when I in my prime. Everyone knew who he was. But what make you think I know where he is?"

"I met with his fighting compatriots in Mindanao. They told me you would know where he would be."

"The fighter in Mindanao?" she asked with a light tilt of her head. "My, my, one must prove themselves in fight or have invitation to meet. How ever did gunman get into good graces?"

"It comes back to Shenhua," Rotton admitted. "I proved to them that I was a companion of hers and they granted me permission to enter their village. I went there because I'm doing a great favor for her."

"A companion? That... quite a title," Jin Long drawled. Rotton found something unsettling in the way the sharp gleam in her eyes flashed. "Well, as her companion, why you have to perform favor?"

"She had a pair of knives, but one of them broke in battle. She values her weapons a great deal and I am trying to find a man who can forge a new blade for her," Rotton said, digging through his bag and pulling out the box with her knives. He opened it and showed them to Jin Long. "Her original bladesmith, Huo Niu, is dead, but Liuyedao took an apprenticeship under him. If I can locate Liuyedao, Shenhua will have a new blade that is of the same quality as its unbroken partner." He closed the box and put it back in his bag.

"My, that impressive story," Jin Long said appreciatively. "You taking that task... but, I ask, why not this Shenhua take it upon herself to find man who can fix sword? Why is it that you are one standing here and not her? From what you implying, she great warrior, is she not?"

Rotton tried to analyze her words. Was she asking how Shenhua was doing, perhaps?

"Shenhua is a great warrior, one of the best freelance hunters in all of Roanapur," Rotton said.

"That nice," Jin Long said simply. There was something off about the ditsy delight in her tone. That wasn't the reaction Rotton was expecting. He wanted something other than a blankly happy comment.

"I do not intend to alarm you, but she was injured recently," Rotton said carefully, not wanting to completely shock the woman. "She was shot in the legs, but she's healing. I have faith she'll back to bounty hunting in no time. She's a very strong woman. You should be proud of her."

"So you telling me she shot?" Jin Long said flatly, turning around until her back faced him, sitting at the edge of her vanity and slowly taking the pins out of her hair. She took special care not to move her face in front of the mirror where he could see her reflection. "That quite tragic, but I suppose that come with the territory of being a killer among killers."

Rotton knitted his eyebrows. Something about Jin Long's attitude was fishy. The woman was acting much too calm and carefree for someone who heard their own child was shot.

"Now, young man, you say you from Roanapur, correct?" Jin Long asked suddenly. Her back was still turned to him.

"Yes," he said.

"And it's a city of killers?"

"Yes."

"And you a gunman?"

"Yes."

"Which means you a hunter yourself?"

"... Yes," Rotton said, becoming unsure of the purpose of these questions.

"And you looking for Liuyedao, who was also hunter," Jin Long asked.

"Yes, madame," Rotton said.

"Hm, interesting."

There was a ten second pause between them, and Rotton got impatient.

"Well?" he asked.

"Well, what?" Jin Long asked guilelessly, still taking her time putting her hair down.

"Aren't you going to tell me where he is?"

"Oh, that?" Jin Long asked. "I so sorry, young man, but I must tell you that your journey end here."

"... Excuse me, madame?"

"I mean I have no idea where Liuyedao is," she said with a shrug. "Really, I don't. I regret to inform you that everything you do up to this point has been waste."

"You lie," Rotton accused. "I can sense it. You know and you're refusing to tell me."

"Why so angry?" Jin Long asked. Her hands were still toying with her hair. "I don't know what I don't know. You may leave now." She took a hand away from her head and waved lazily.

"_Qù nǐde, lèsè._"

Rotton curled his right hand in anger, ignoring the pain.

"I will not 'fuck off' and I am not garbage!"

Jin Long stopped playing with her hair a moment and turned around, raising an eyebrow in inquiry.

"Shenhua thinks I don't understand her when she cusses either."

Jin Long dropped the clueless act and grinned in a cocky way, getting up from her vanity and swaying over to the Wizard.

"My, my, so the white devil can understand Chinese," she said, taunting him with slow applause. "A few more courses at Wenzao College and you could teach at _buxiban_."

"Where is Liuyedao?" Rotton asked firmly.

"I tell you already, I don't know," she said with a smirk.

"Stop lying to me," Rotton demanded. "If you think I want to locate him for selfish reasons, you are wrong. What about your daughter? She's in pain right now and one of things that will make her feel better is getting her blade fixed. Don't you care about that at all?"

"My daughter? You mean that Shenhua you been talking about?" Jin Long asked carelessly. She turned around again and walked back over to her vanity, busying herself with putting her hair down once more. "I feel sorry for poor thing. Your story touch my heart, but that all it is: story. You mistake me for someone else, young man. This Shenhua you speak of... I no ties to her in the present, and you can't use her against me. It nothing."

Rotton breathed out slowly and shook his head.

"I'm aware you are the one who sent her to train on the island, you know. Do you know what she went through when you sent her there?"

Jin Long said nothing.

"The masters told me what happened. She endured so much suffering on that island for years on end," Rotton continued. "Liuyedao was very cruel to her. I was appalled when I heard about his methods. Yet knowing that Shenhua rose above that hell and became a great hunter, I thought for a moment that perhaps that the freelancer she could be was what you had envisioned and Liuyedao failed to inform you about the training Shenhua would be subjected to."

Still, Jin Long said nothing.

"When I called Shenhua on the phone and told her I was coming to visit you, she refused to speak with me. I wondered why she was so angry when I talked about you, but now I understand why. You are nothing but a callous, selfish woman who cares for no one except herself."

"Is that all you have to say to me?" Jin Long asked.

Rotton curled his lip in disgust as she kept pulling pins out of her hair until she got to the two ornamental sticks, the last of the pieces that held the black and grey strands up.

"Vanity," he scoffed. "Serving only yourself and ignoring the suffering of others. But I suppose that comes with the territory of running a brothel."

Jin Long continued to ignore his comments and took the sticks out. Her hair cascaded down her back.

"A madame of a great house, you sell other women like a commodity. It's repulsive, the lowest profession in the underworld. You're a horrible woman. I passed by that crowd downstairs and I saw girls who were as young as Shenhua when you sent her to train on the island. She was 12 back then. You heartless snake, I wouldn't be surprised if you sold the body of your own daughter to your clients!"

That comment, Jin Long did not ignore.

There were two simultaneous "shing" sounds as Jin Long unsheathed the tiny, sharp blades that were hidden inside her hair sticks. The sound of glass breaking resonated throughout the room as the woman smashed the back of Rotton's head against the mirror of her vanity, the force of the blow whipping off his sunglasses and tossing his duffel bag to the other side of the room. It all happened so swiftly, the precise moment Rotton registered the stinging pain of the shards embedded in his scalp, Jin Long had pinned his body against the table portion of the vanity in a death grip, the edge of one small blade against his neck, the other blade placed menacingly close at his crotch.

And he hadn't bothered to wear a cup.

Upon staring into the cold, metallic eyes of Jin Long, a bead of sweat dripped down the side of his face as he now understood why that girl in yellow had called the madame the "iron dragon".

"You sure like to hear yourself talk, don't you, pretty boy?" she hissed in suddenly perfect English, revealing the broken speech pattern as an act. "Some dapper little white devil with such a pretty face, I'm willing to bet you haven't done a day of work in your life. Oh, but I'm sure you know so much more than I do. You know everything about how the world works, right? You must know everything if you can lecture a whore."

Her silver and black hair draped itself around them like a veil, and the bright red color of the room enhanced her vicious glare. It could have been his imagination, but for a moment, Rotton swore he saw the pupils of her eyes morph into vertical slits.

"You motherfucker," she growled. "How dare you accuse me of selling my own daughter. You've no idea what I have endured to ensure her well being. You can call me all the nasty names you want, but I shall not allow you, not allow _anyone_ to say I treated Shenhua poorly. You think I don't love my child because I sent her away to an island of killers? You listen, you arrogant shit, I sent her away _because_ I loved her."

"What?" he said, his voice strained. She was still holding a knife at his throat and, more worryingly, his lower extremities.

"You don't get it. I know," she whispered. "It will become clear, should my urge to watch you bleed to death when I castrate you be overridden by my desire to get my story through that thick head of yours."

"You have my attention," he croaked. The iron dragon released an inhuman sound between a laugh and a hiss.

"Funny, funny boy. Keep me happy and I just may just let you live," she drawled. "You're not very bright, but I suppose I can give you credit for some things. You are correct about me being a horrible woman. I do not argue with that. Selling women like merchandise, it isn't very nice, but nice doesn't put money in my pocket. It never does in the underbelly of the world. I learned this when I was sold myself."

Rotton gulped.

"What, pretty boy? You think I started out as a madame? You're too naive," she chuckled cruelly. "You don't need to hear every little detail. All you need to know was that I was very young when it happened; I did not have the luxury of a childhood. I grew up to be a depraved woman, and I did very, very bad things. I have no pride when I tell you that my misdeeds make Da Ji and Sada Abe look like saints."

Rotton knitted his eyebrows.

"Hm, perhaps those are unfamiliar figures with you Westerners. No matter," she shrugged. "I was a very sick person. As the years went on, I learned how to manipulate men to get what I wanted. All it takes is time and patience and you can destroy a person from the inside out. The body is just a vessel. Sex is all mind games."

"What about love?"

"Foolish boy, there was no room for that in my world. There never was. That was until..." the iron dragon trailed off. She contemplated taking away the blade at his neck. Smirking, she pulled the sharp edge away and grasped his neck with her hand. She moved her lips to his left ear and whispered. "You know what 'Shenhua' means, pretty boy? It means 'myth'. I did many bad things, and I was a very bad person, but when Shenhua was born... I could not believe that _she_ was my flesh and blood. I remember holding her and thinking she was divine, a gift from the heavens, so I named her Shenhua. That is how precious she is to me."

Allowing the words to sink in, Rotton began to apologize.

"... I am sorry I made a hasty assumption about—"

"Shut up, pretty boy, you're not getting off that easy." She tore her lips away from his ear and looked into his eyes again. The steel-like gaze was still there. "Now, I shall tell you why I sent her to the island. I tried to give her the childhood I did not have, but as she grew, reality set in. As much as I wanted her to have a normal life as possible, I was still a prostitute, and we lived in the slums. I looked around and I saw women like myself selling themselves in the streets and the violence that took place with the local syndicates, and I know Shenhua saw it as well. I realized after she had seen all this filth, she would never have a normal life. She was tainted; she would always remain in the underworld. So I wanted her to become a killer."

"..."

"I lost you, hmm?"

"Perhaps, yes," Rotton admitted, his mind still wandering to the remaining blade at his crotch. "The life of a killer is not—"

"Not what, pretty boy? Righteous? Good?" she snarled. "Those are not options when you are doomed to spend your life in the underworld. Becoming a hunter was the best choice for my daughter. You think traveling on a path paved in blood is repulsive? Then answer this question, pretty boy. Why is it that _you_ decided to become a hunter instead of a male host?"

"..."

"Speechless again?" she teased. "I know why, even if you don't, pretty boy. Imagine what it feels like to be held down on a piss-stained mattress getting gang-banged while having cigarettes put out on your asshole for kicks. Now imagine having to do that for a living. Putting a bullet in someone's head is far more glamorous by comparison, isn't it?"

"... I see your point," Rotton said solemnly.

"There are different tiers in the underworld. My profession is the lowest rank, and by the time I had Shenhua, I was too far gone. But Shenhua still had a chance to be something great. She had the potential to secure her place in the criminal hierarchy, and I made sure that opportunity would not be wasted."

"But, I don't understand."

"Understand what, pretty boy?" she snapped.

"The masters told me you weren't one hundred percent certain of what was happening to Shenhua during her training. Did you try to contact her to know what was going on?"

There was a lull in the conversation and the iron dragon lowered her head, breathing out slowly as she placed her lips next to his ear once again, thus moving her eyes out of view.

"I told you many times, I am a very bad person who has done very bad things," she whispered forlornly. "When I made the deal with Liuyedao to take Shenhua with him, I made him promise that he would not let Shenhua contact me. I avoided contact as well; I wanted my daughter to distance herself from my life so she could thrive and have her own. My existence, my life, is squalid, and I didn't want Shenhua to associate herself with the filth I have to wallow through."

"But aren't you upset that your daughter holds that distance against you? She never spoke of you to me and seems to..."

"She hates me," the iron dragon finished. It was odd, Rotton thought. She didn't seem contemptuous or even the least bit angry when she said the words. "I know, I know, it has been over 15 years since I've seen my daughter, 6 of those years after she was done training, if Liuyedao's words are anything to go by. She refuses to contact me. I do not blame her."

"Have you tried to contact her in return after her training finished?"

"What would be the use? From what you said earlier, she does not even wish to hear my name. Why would she lend her ear to anything I would have to say? Besides, if she despises me, then she will not have to associate with my sickening life. That was my intention when I sent her away. She is better off."

She looked back into his eyes, reading him and contemplating what to do next. She let out a jagged breath and gripped the lower blade tightly.

In an instant, the iron dragon ripped herself away from his body and turned her back to him, finding the sheaths to her minuscule blades.

"Liuyedao is currently hidden in subsection of the Kunlun Mountains in China. I shall give you a map."

Slowly, Rotton assessed her reaction. He kept an eye on her as he got off of the vanity, preparing himself if she were to attack him again.

He groaned as he got up, trying to shake the mirror shards loose from his hair. He leaned over to pick up his sunglasses off the floor and touched the back of his head , looking at his hand as he pulled it away. He didn't seem to be bleeding profusely; Rotton noticed as he put his shades back on. A few cuts and scratches, but nothing major.

"It's not surprising you weren't harmed by that. You seem to have endured many head injuries in your time," she said as she looked over her shoulder.

Rotton shrugged off the jab at his intelligence. At least he wasn't a eunuch.

"You know, within a minute of hearing your story, I was originally going to kill you," Jin Long confessed, fully turning toward him. "Not by castration, at first. I was not lying when I told you Liuyedao was a big name killer in my prime. It's been many years since his last job, but there are times I am still concerned about contract hits being taken out on his head. I suspected you to be a hit man at first and you made up the story about my daughter to catch me off guard. I was going to tell the guards shoot you the moment you stepped out of here."

"When did you plan to castrate me during that line of thought?" he asked as coolly as he could; he didn't sound cool at all.

"Castration was not the original plan. It became an option when you started making foolish accusations."

"Fair enough," Rotton said. "But I am in one piece. I assume you accepted my apology?"

"That's part of it," she said. "The reason you are free to go is because I now believe your story about the broken blade. Also, I was concerned you were going to kill Liuyedao, but after pinning you down, I am confident that you would die if you tried to best him in combat."

"Oh? What makes you so sure I'd lose?" Rotton asked in slight interest.

"I know an inexperienced man when I feel one," she quipped.

Rotton coughed lightly into his hand before pinching the lenses of his sunglasses. He didn't want to think about the connotations of that statement.

"And," Jin Long started. "Why else would I think Liuyedao would win? He was the man chose to train Shenhua."

At that last sentence, Jin Long's voice wavered and she turned around so he couldn't see her face. She began to run her fingers through her hair, preparing to put it back up again.

"Not seeing Shenhua all these years, it hurts, doesn't it?" Rotton asked sadly.

"Don't sound like that. It's so damn pitiful," Jin Long scolded, still refusing to look him. "You're quite invasive, you know that, pretty boy? 'It hurts, doesn't it?' What sort of question is that?"

Something in her steady tone didn't seem convincing to Rotton. Suddenly, he caught Jin Long's reflection on the glass of a picture hanging on the wall. For one moment, he saw the steel gleam in her eye fade as she wiped away a single tear, before hardening her gaze again.

He sighed in understanding.

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

They stood in the living room. Jin Long had told the guards outside to give his weapons back while she prepared the items he would need for his journey.

"Here is a map and a set of directions. You should find him in the village I listed. Even a pretty boy like yourself should be able to follow that easily," Jin Long said. Upon noting her nickname for him, she came to a realization. "I never did ask you for your name, did I?"

"Rotton, 'the Wizard'," he intoned softly, taking the map and directions and placing them inside of his duffel bag. Jin Long lifted an eyebrow with a smirk. That was an unusual moniker.

"I appreciate the assistance," Rotton said. "Thank you."

The older woman waved off the comment with a scoff.

"Don't start getting sentimental, Rotton 'the Wizard'," she said. "I've done my part. Now leave me."

"Of course," he nodded. When she saw him turn around, Jin Long thought he was going to leave, but instead he rummaged around in his duffel bag.

"What are you doing?" Jin Long asked suspiciously, reaching for the small blades hidden in the ornamental sticks in her hair.

"I am grateful for your assistance, and I would not feel right to leave you without a proper gift." Rotton turned back towards her and pulled out an iron dragon statue. "I think you need this more than I do." He held it out and offered it to her.

Jin Long looked at him strangely, before her steely eyes widened in shock. Not caring if it made her appear eager or wanting, she grasped the dragon tightly.

"I know it cannot compare to the real thing, but I promise you I shall find a way to remedy that in due time. For now, I bid you farewell, Miss Jin Long." The iron dragon barely heard his words before he turned on his heel and walked out the door.

Jin Long's eyes began to water as she gazed at the photograph the dragon was guarding protectively in its claws.

Her daughter was beautiful.

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

Rotton looked down at the remaining picture in his wallet, thankful he had brought along the photograph of Shenhua and Sawyer with him. He could use this one if Liuyedao asked for proof of Shenhua knowing him. Plus, Rotton thought deeply, he would need both of his companion's guidance if he was going to make it to the end of this trip intact.

He brushed past the brothel's patrons and headed to the corridor. In a far off end of the bar, a girl in a yellow dress was talking with some other prostitutes.

"_There he is! There he is!_" she whispered excitedly, pointing before he fell out of their view and exited the room. "_Unbelievable! He lives! Oh, but he wasn't in her room for very long. I guess his stamina isn't very good. He does look like the clumsy type. Hehehehe..._"

The other girls giggled along with her, but they soon stopped and froze in fear when a shadow loomed over their section of the bar. The girl in yellow stopped laughing when she realized she was the only one doing so, and she curled her lip.

"_Hey, what's with you all? Why are you—?_"

"_Ahem._"

The air turned cold and the girl in yellow squeaked, clenching her teeth in worry when she recognized the agitated voice. She turned her head to look over her shoulder and immediately regretted it.

Jin Long did not look happy.

"_H-Hello, Madame Boss. I was just—_"

"_I know what you were doing. Gossip doesn't make me money. Now all of you whores get off your lazy asses and go to work!_" she roared.

The girls scattered and Jin Long scowled.

That pretty boy, Rotton, may have lightened her spirits, but she was still the madame of a brothel. It was a cruel and despicable existence, but this territory was where she thrived. This was her domain, and she went through great measures to secure her place.

As such, she would not tolerate any teasing remarks against her daughter's noble, albeit touched-in-the-head, companion.

She smirked at the thought. That was a right that solely belonged to her.

* * *

**A/N:** Wait, she doesn't like it when other people insult Rotton, but she reserves the right to do it herself? Weirdo.

This chapter was originally meant to be part of Chapter Three, but when I saw it extended further than my usual word quota, I decided to slice it in half and put it in two separate parts, so to speak.

Da Ji and Sada Abe – I'll just let you google them and the nightmare fuel will take care of itself. Sweet dreams!

Cheers.


	5. V

**V: THE SABRE SERPENT**

A desperate man began pulling himself across the tiled floor, clutching at the smooth, bloodied surface. A thick streak of blood painted itself across the ground as he dragged the stubs of what remained of his legs behind him. He hoped that twisted butcher girl wouldn't notice his escape for the exit while she had her back turned to him.

"**Rotton... you're an idiot,**" uttered a ghostly monotone voice. Sawyer the Cleaner was wearing her choker-like Ultravoice with her work uniform. The body disposal expert had moved her goggles onto the top of her head, the surgeon's mask resting around her collar. She had the set the cell phone down on a table, next to her chainsaw, and put the phone on speaker. It would make no sense for the mute girl to hold it to her mouth.

"_**Sawyer, I am more than halfway to this subsection in the Kunlun Mountains. It would be of poor taste to abandon the quest thus far**_**.**"

"**You're still... an idiot,**" Sawyer claimed. "**You've kept me updated... yet you haven't called Shenhua's phone.**"

"_**Shenhua would not have answered if I called over this course. Both you and I are aware she is furious with me.**_"

"**Furious... is an understatement. By the way she talks... about flaying you alive... the Assyrians would think... she needs to tone it down.**"

"_**She will calm down with time. I am almost to my intended destination.**_"

"**What makes you think... Shenhua's mother... didn't give you... directions leading... into a trap?**"

"_**Madame Jin Long's words were genuine. I saw it in her eyes. You, too, would have seen it if you were there. I attest to her sincerity and honor.**_"

"**The honor of... a brothel owner?**"

"_**Sawyer, remove the log in your eye. You are also a criminal, but you have your sense of honor as well. Expect the same of Shenhua's mother. I told you of her reasons.**_"

"**And Shenhua... isn't buying it,**" Sawyer interjected. "**She tunes me out... when I try to explain... what you told me.**"

"_**I know it is difficult for her to see Jin Long in a different light after so many years, but please keep talking to her. It will help me when I also try my hand at reasoning with her once I come back to Roanapur.**_"

"**You still haven't told me... why you're so set on fixing... her mommy issues,**" Sawyer said.

"_**It shall all be explained in due time. I must go now. Be patient, Frederica, my journey is near its end. Good bye.**_"

Sawyer sighed, the conversation now finished. She took the cell phone and placed it in the pocket of her black leather apron for safe keeping. As she began to turn around, she placed the work goggles back over her eyes and the mask over her mouth. She then stepped over to the man she had been ignoring, mildly amused that he managed to reach the door in such a short span of time.

The man screamed as Sawyer grabbed the sides of his torso and dragged him back over to the cutting table.

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

Their conversation had ended well over two weeks ago.

Even with Jin Long's directions, Rotton had gotten lost in the Kunlun Mountains. He had managed to enter China easily enough by ship. He passed by and through cities, towns and villages on the way, seeing varied settings from steel towers to rivers and valleys. This mountainous terrain, however, was foreign to him, a multitude of high rises and drops, rocky dirt roads and dangerously steep slopes with jagged edges. One slip, one careless step, and that would very well be the end.

Though he was trekking through a mountainous area, he was surprised to see an abundance of earthy tones and clear blue skies. He had expected snow and harsh winds, and while he was thankful he had his trench coat to guard against the cold temperatures, he'd found out he managed to visit the mountainous area within the few months the air wasn't extremely cold in this section. It was of little comfort. Rotton was struggling to find Liuyedao's residence on the map, and whether it was due to fatigue from searching non-stop with nothing but a duffel bag or if the altitude was toying with his head, the man was beginning to reach a breaking point.

For one instant, Rotton wondered if Jin Long did trick him and this was nothing more than a ruse. Was Sawyer right, then? Could Rotton be walking into a trap?

No, he refused to consider it. He shook his head and gathered his thoughts. That look in Jin Long's eyes, the severity of her words. She was being honest with him. She had to be. He refused to think this journey was for naught. He just needed to keep looking.

However, it seemed Lady Luck had grown weary and impatient, urging Lachesis to get more creative. As Rotton pulled out his map to check his progress, a sudden gust blew the paper out of his hands.

"No!"

The map tauntingly fluttered and twirled through the air, constantly evading his grasp. Just when he thought he would gain a solid grip, there would be another burst of wind that would carry it further away. With every ounce of his being, Rotton hoped the map wouldn't fly off an edge and descend into a pit. That map was his only copy. Without it, he would really be lost.

As quickly as they had been summoned, the winds calmed and the map came to settle in the middle of the dirt path, just before it met a sharp curve. Rotton sighed in relief, seeing this in the not-too-far distance. But as he stepped towards the map, a black and white feral goat appeared from over the curve.

Immediately, the Wizard's breath caught in his throat before he sprinted towards the hoofed beast, but it was too late. By the time he closed the distance between them, the animal had already eaten half of the map and was currently chewing on the other. Rotton's posture deteriorated into an undignified slouch. The goat looked up at him, chewing and grinding the paper between its teeth as it stared at him with a lifeless, uncaring, and oblivious gaze.

It was at that instant that Rotton found himself reaching for one of his Mausers.

"I not do that if I were you. It look stupid, but that thing tackle you off cliff before you pull trigger."

Rotton looked over his shoulder to see where the deep, raspy voice had come from. There on the path stood a man as tall as he was in an off-white cloak, the cloth shifting lightly in the breeze as the shadows cast by the large hood obscured his face from view. Who was he? Rotton didn't recall seeing that man follow him up the road.

"You speak English?" Rotton asked, fully turning towards this stranger. His hand was still inside his tench coat, grasping the hidden Mauser.

"I speak enough," said the stranger.

Rotton nodded. The man's speech sounded broken, but understandable.

"Do you reside in these mountains?" Rotton asked.

"For now," answered the stranger. "I take it you lost? Not very smart to come without guide."

"I cannot afford the services of one," Rotton said. Most of his money had been spent on supplies that were long gone by this point.

"A tourist with no money? Not too smart."

"I am no tourist," Rotton proclaimed, taking his hand away from his gun and trying to make a dramatic gesture. He flinched. Even well after two weeks of healing, that hand still hurt.

"Bandage not look good. Get mugged on way here?" The stranger didn't sound concerned. The tone was more or less unimpressed.

"This wound was acquired due to a personal matter that was resolved long ago. It is as severe as the small cut on my cheek, nothing more than a flesh wound," Rotton reassured him. "Who are you? Are you some sort of sage?"

"You watch too many movie. I just man who live here," he answered gruffly.

"Can you guide me?" Rotton asked.

The stranger seemed hesitant, before saying, "It depend. What you looking for?"

It was Rotton's turn to hesitate. Was there an eloquent manner in telling a complete stranger he was looking for a retired mercenary? Perhaps those weren't the precise words that needed to be used.

"I am searching for... a bladesmith," Rotton said. "I am told a master who can forge the perfect knife resides within these mountains, and I am intent on finding him. Do you know of such a man?"

"You really do watch too many movie," said the stranger. "I hear of such man, but I not know where you find him. There a village not very far. Perhaps people there can give you information you want. Just ignore the goat and follow the path. You be there before nightfall."

"Thank you," Rotton sighed. He reached into the duffel bag slung over his shoulder and pulled out a box, opening it. He stared down at the khukri knives. "We're almost there."

The knives caught the sunlight coming over Rotton's shoulder. A bright flash hit the stranger's eyes when Rotton turned to the side and he saw what was inside the box.

No, it couldn't be.

"Where you get those?" the old man asked quickly, making a noise akin to a hiss. Rotton looked over in cool inquiry.

"Is it any of your concern?" Rotton asked, closing the box.

"If I right about what I think about those knives," the stranger threatened. He pulled the hood of the cloak back and Rotton was greeted with the sight of an Asian man in his mid-late sixties. His face bore numerous scars, short, stark white hair and suntanned skin that had an almost leather-like property to it, his deep blue eyes were calculating, severe. Rotton could have sworn he saw those eyes somewhere before.

But that couldn't be, Rotton thought. He had never met this man before today. Unless...

"You're Shenhua's father? Liuyedao!" he said in awe. What a stroke of luck!

"_Teacher_," he hissed. "Answer question, boy. Where you get knives?"

"Shenhua was in a great battle in Roanapur. Her knife was shattered and she was shot, but she survived. She needs her blade to be repaired and with Huo Niu's passing, you are the only one who can forge a knife worthy of her caliber. Master Liuyedao, Shenhua would be grateful if you were to undergo this task for her."

Liuyedao stared him down with an unamused scowl.

"Who tell you Huo Niu dead?"

"Your compatriots told me. I journeyed into Mindanao and found the knife fighters," Rotton said as he pointed to the cut on his cheek. Liuyedao understood the gesture. "They didn't know where you were, so they directed me to Kaohsiung to find Jin Long. She told me I could locate you in the Kunlun Mountains."

"You speak to her?" Liuyedao asked with lackluster. "Yet you not dead. That rare. So let me understand story: You travel all way from Roanapur to bring me Shenhua's broken knife. Want it fixed, right, _pretty boy_?"

"Rotton 'the Wizard'," the silver haired mercenary informed him, "and yes, it would be—"

"Then go back," Liuyedao said nonchalantly, crossing his arms underneath his cloak. Rotton didn't understand the statement.

"Back? Down the path?"

"To Roanapur," Liuyedao clarified.

"To the city?" Rotton asked. "Is the forging process long and arduous? I understand if it so. There is no need to wait in the city and have it shipped. I am willing to stay here in the mountains until the blade is—"

"No, go back to Roanapur and take broken knife with you," the knife master hissed. Rotton was taken aback.

"I... I do not understand."

"I not care if you come from end of earth to find me. She want her knife fixed and send idiot gunman in her place?"

"Shenhua did not send me. I came here of my own volition, and if you do not believe I know Shenhua—"

"I believe you know her. She always have thing for pretty boys," Liuyedao said disinterestedly. "What I say is, that not Shenhua's way, and she know that not my way. That not how I teach her. She want her knife fixed? You say she survive shooting. If she have will to live through that, she have no problem coming to make request in person like warrior."

"But Shenhua is injured!" Rotton shouted, almost growling.

"Then she can crawl on hands and knees and ask. If she want something, she fight to get it," Liuyedao finished harshly. He moved forward in an attempt to walk past Rotton, but the silver haired man blocked Liuyedao's way and stepped in front of him.

"That is cruel and you know it," Rotton said, looking him in the eye.

"What be cruel is if she ask and I say 'no'. Get out of way, boy. You have no place here. Not your concern."

"Then I shall make it so."

The wind picked up and the tails of Rotton's trench coat and Liuyedao's cloak flowed in the strong breeze. The goat, having long since eaten the map, bleated pathetically and ran off, sensing imminent danger.

Seeing that Rotton was not going to back away, Liuyedao spoke.

"You see any _wuxia_ movies, gunman?"

"I've seen some," Rotton answered, wondering why Liuyedao brought that up.

"Do you know the story of these mountains?"

"... Not particularly," Rotton said airily. What was Liuyedao up to?

"These mountains paradise to Taoists, domain of Queen Mother of the West. I think we show respect by provide entertainment for her."

"I do not understand what you are saying," Rotton said.

Liuyedao stepped back and in one motion pulled off his cloak, draping the cloth over an outstretched branch. There wasn't an inch of Liuyedao's body that didn't bare a scar. He wore a black sleeveless shirt and worn jeans with black boots, but what had Rotton's attention was the sheath strapped to the man's back. Quickly, Liuyedao reached behind himself and pulled out a slightly curved sword, the willow leaf saber. Rotton was no where near Shenhua's expertise when it came to recognizing blades, but he could see that Liuyedao's weapon was not a style of the modern age.

"This weapon how I get my name," Liuyedao shared. "You want knife fixed? Show me skill that get you this far. Draw your guns, wizard. You need them."

"If I shoot you, there will be no one to forge Shenhua's knife," Rotton reasoned, putting away the box into the duffel bag. He then gently dropped the bag to the ground by his feet and reached into his trench coat for his Mausers.

"You worry about own self, wizard. But before we fight, I give you one warning," Liuyedao said.

"What would that be?" Rotton drew his guns.

"You blink, you die."

Rotton didn't have time to understand the statement when Liuyedao lashed out with his sword.

The old calvary sword tore through the winds and created a flurry of steel before Rotton's vision. He took a step back and a gash appeared across his right bicep, followed by a small vertical cut down the right side of his face, forming a red cross with the horizontal scar already there. Another slash down his left shoulder, another gash forming on his chest, all within a matter of seconds. Rotton groaned. He regretted taking off his vest earlier; he thought it would have weighed him down when he trekked through the mountains. Now, as Liuyedao struck out and cut him across the chest once more, he realized that was a costly mistake.

"The Wizard" breathed out and tried to gain as much distance between himself and Liuyedao as possible. It took a great deal of calculated maneuvering, for he was constantly reminded by the surrounding environment that he wasn't familiar with the mountain routes. The slightest misstep, a single moment of carelessness, and he would fall. Yet the roads were getting more narrow, and Liuyedao was drawing closer.

Rotton had opened his mouth to speak before firing, but Liuyedao did not tolerate it. The older man leaped into the air and kicked Rotton square in the jaw with the heel of his boot, knocking the silver haired mercenary backward until his head collided with the sharp, tiny pebbles in the dirt path. The gunman didn't have time to grimace and rolled to the side to avoid the metal point that dug deeply into the earth where his head had been placed only a mere second ago. Liuyedao showed no signs of a struggle when he pulled the embedded sword out of the ground and came back at Rotton.

The gunman got to his feet, trying to get a lock on Liuyedao, failing miserably at the task while he tried to speak with the man (of course, he refused to listen). The supposedly retired mercenary wouldn't stay still. The man moved like a serpent, winding and sliding side to side before striking him within milliseconds. Absurdly, Rotton wondered if there was a fountain of youth hidden within the mountains that permitted a man of Liuyedao's age to move in such a manner. That minute train of thought was shattered as Liuyedao swiped at Rotton's legs. "The Wizard" was still in one piece, but as his blood trickled to the ground, the stinging wounds told him it may not remain that way for long.

The only reason Rotton had managed to keep his limbs was because he continued to back away from Liuyedao and get some distance. It was his only saving grace, yet with each backward step he took, there was the ever high risk of falling to his death. For a second, he would look over his shoulder to avoid such a fate, but even that motion cost him in the battle. Liuyedao was a man of opportunity. Rotton was certain he was going to gain as many scars in a single day as it took Liuyedao to acquire over a course of decades.

Still, he held onto his guns.

It was uncertain to "the Wizard" how long the dance of blades and blood lasted in the mountains. Aching stings wracked his system, what remained of his sliced clothes soaked and sticky with blood and sweat. He was unsure of how long the dance of steel and blood had gone on, but if it continued down this course, he knew it would not end well for him. As Liuyedao rushed forward for another hit, Rotton knew he had to strike. He focused and took aim before squeezing the trigger.

A hawk took flight at the sound of gunfire. A pool of blood began to form, droplets splashing. Rotton felt Liuyedao's left hand resting on his shoulder, his forearm against the silver haired mercenary's ribs. Liuyedao looked into the lenses of Rotton's sunglasses, a blank slate of a stare in the Asian man's features.

Warm, crimson fluid poured out of the side of Rotton's mouth. He dropped his guns.

"You miss."

That was all Liuyedao said to him before he pushed Rotton backwards, sliding his sword out of the young man's gut and letting his body fall down the side of the jaded mount. He picked up the Mausers.

The winds howled as Liuyedao walked back down the path, cleaning off his sword as he did so. Soon, the man reached where he left his cloak, still on the branch, and also where that wizard boy had left his bag. He took his cloak and folded it into a neat square, placing it on the ground beside the duffel bag. He sat in a lotus position as he went through the bag, putting the guns back inside and pulling out the box with Shenhua's khukri. The latches clicked open.

"_My, my, what manner of beast did this?_" Liuyedao hummed in Mandarin as he looked at the shattered knife and its unbroken partner. He closed the box and looked out over the horizon.

He sat there for hours, gazing at his surroundings, contemplating. Though he had won that fight, exerting so much energy at once had made him tired. That pretty boy lasted longer than he'd anticipated. Perhaps "the Wizard" had been stronger than he thought. Didn't seem all that bright, however.

As the sun began to set on the horizon, small trails of light peeked out from behind a dark cloud. Liuyedao squinted questionably at the sight. What was that doing here? It wasn't the rainy season.

Out of nowhere, a pebble hit the side of Liuyedao's head. The man grimaced and picked up the small stone, looking at it as he rubbed the spot where he'd been struck. He then looked over to where the rock had come from and beheld the sight of a young man swaying as he walked, struggling to stand up. He was hunched over, both hands covering the hole in his stomach, clothes ripped to shreds and sunglasses gone, silver hair and pale flesh painted with a thick coat of blood. A bright red streak followed him with each step.

As the blood-soaked strands of Rotton's hair caught the sunlight, Liuyedao looked back at the nimbus. Ah, so that explained it perfectly. Was the Divine Mother that entertained?

Liuyedao said and did nothing, still sitting as Rotton walked up to him and fell on his knees. He looked Liuyedao in the eye and shakily gripped the man's collar.

"Fix. Shenhua's. Knife."

Uttering that command with his final breath, Rotton let go of Liuyedao and fell forward, collapsing in a bloody heap on the ground. At long last, he had found the final sword master.

The journey was over.

* * *

**A/N: **And you thought _your_ girlfriend's father was bad? Pfft.

Short chapter, I know. But I wanted this to flow with what I have planned next. Shenhua's knife finally gets fixed and Liuyedao imparts cynical wisdom upon the younger generation.

Oh, you wanna know how Rotton got back up the mountain? Like what Lucy Lawless said, "A wizard did it." So...

Cheers.


	6. VI

**VI: DRAGON'S VENOM**

_"__...Jesus fuck, you're still on the rag about _that_? Lemme guess, you don't have much luck with the guys, do ya? They all run away for some reason, right?"_

_"I think that is none of your business, yes?"_

- Revy and Shenhua, Chapter Three, The Black Lagoon Light Novel: _Shaitane Badi_

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

A shallow breath, a dilation of pupils, a brutal stiffness in posture, the quickening pace of a heartbeat, a rush of adrenaline, it was a natural human reaction. Yet there was no explaining the suddenness of the feeling, a sense of nervous tension and a twinge of fear. It came out of nowhere.

Shenhua and Sawyer shared an expression of inquiry as they sat at the dining table. Something was amiss. Wordlessly, their minds wandered from wonder to worry. There was an imminent feeling of emptiness, a chilling cold only embraced by the dead. What caused this? Why were they suddenly overwhelmed? It appeared as though it were a feeling provided by instinct, by some primal bond.

Immediately, Rotton came to mind, and they both dismissed the thought as quickly as it had come.

No, it couldn't be. Rotton was probably very happy, they told themselves. He was perfectly fine, hiking somewhere in the mountains. The crazy boy had always loved high places. Why, when he came back, they'd all take time off from work and go visit the Eiffel Tower.

The thoughts ended there. Shenhua and Sawyer exchanged glances, seeking assurance in one another's eyes.

All they found was denial.

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

Everything was a blur.

A twirling pallet of grays and browns and a warm yellow glow. At a tortoise's pace, the world began to clear. A modern shack of some sort, only the barest of human essentials decorating the interior. With the exception of an odd looking fireplace, which he now realized was a forge, the building was naught more than a large wooden hut with a stove and a bathroom.

Groggily, he attempted to prop himself up from his place under the thick wool blankets and bedding. The most minute movements caused him to cry out in agony, grinding his teeth as the pain slowly ebbed away.

"You awake now? That take long time." He heard a familiar voice. Rotton said nothing in return and stared at the ceiling, still trying to gather his wits. He did not dare to get back up again, letting his head rest in the depression of a pillow. He did not bother trying to reach for the sunglasses sitting beside his head. Liuyedao walked over from his place in front of the roaring fire and pulled up a chair to sit at the left side of the bed. The retired mercenary looked upon Rotton with a nondescript stare.

"Underworld not want to let you go, you out for more than week," Liuyedao informed him. "It take so long to be awake, think you going to die soon. It strange you live that long after fight. _Yaochi Jinmu_ must cherish Shenhua very much if you still here to tell me to carry out wish in her name."

"I'm alive...?" Rotton murmured. Visions of a sword and jagged mountains filled his head. An immediate question came to mind. "... How do I look?"

"Like a man who fall down a mountain," Liuyedao said dryly. The older male assessed a sense of vanity coming from this odd boy, and he neglected to tell Rotton his entire body was liberally coated with white bandages and gauze. Even Rotton's forehead bore a thick sash, weaving through silver strands to soak up and assist clotting blood. Had his face been covered as well, the young mercenary could be mistaken for a fresh mummy.

"I'm alive?" Rotton asked again. He moved again and winced in agony. Yes, he was alive, barely so. There wasn't an inch of his body that did not ache and he found himself silently cursing the man sitting at his bedside. Liuyedao could feel his resentment, but made no comment on the younger man's thoughts.

"You hardier than I judge you. Pushed off mountain and climb back up, you very resilient," Liuyedao proclaimed dully. A small ball of pride welled up in Rotton's heart at the words of the martial artist, but the feeling did not last long as Liuyedao had more to say.

"Yet your stubbornness be product of thick skull. You seem like type of man who cause himself and others suffering through his stupidity."

Rotton's lip twitched and contorted into an offensive frown. He normally brushed off negative remarks to his intelligence, yet by this point in his journey he'd grown tired of the constant jabs. Still, he thought, just how did he live? How did he manage to survive being impaled with a sword and falling down the side of a mountain?

"I know that look," Liuyedao intoned, reading the thoughts through Rotton's light blue eyes. "I master swordsman; I know what kill a man, and I know what cannot. I give you small chance to live. Blade through stomach not as deadly as blade through neck, and slope you get kick down inclined, not straight drop. Your spirit do the rest."

Rotton's frown turned into a full blown snarl as he glared at the man through the corner of his eye.

"I know you angry with me," Liuyedao said with a shrug. "It natural. But, you lucky man to take such bad fall and no broken bone. It like you made of iron. I know how to dress your wound because I look at them many time in past with Shenhua. You much more lucky than she was. She take fall down mountain in Mindanao. Broke leg and several ribs, take long time to heal."

"You pushed your own daughter off a mountain?" Rotton asked disdainfully.

"I did not _push _her. She didn't detect leg sweep during sparring match and flip over too close to edge. Not worry, she got better," Liuyedao said with a wave of his hand. Rotton found great discomfort with the man's casual attitude toward Shenhua's training injuries.

"She a strong woman," Liuyedao went on. "Could handle it. She a good student, and she grow into great hunter."

"But couldn't you have afforded to implement tactics that were not so harsh? There is a difference between training and outright brutality," Rotton lectured.

Liuyedao sighed as he placed his hands on his knees and lifted himself up from his seat, striding across the smooth stone floor over to the stove huddled away in the corner.

"That is not way of the Kunlun Sect," Liuyedao said mysteriously, reaching for a kettle and pouring the hot water into two simple white tea cups.

"The Kunlun Sect?" Rotton echoed curiously, turning his head toward Liuyedao's back.

"The Kunlun Sect hidden in these mountains. They legendary martial artists, rivaled only by monks of Wudang and Shaolin," Liuyedao said as he mixed tea leaves with the water. "When I infant, I abandoned on doorstep of temple. The sect take me in and teach me their ways, ruthless and strict. I suffer, but it only by their training that I grow to have skill worthy of becoming great killer. It be foolish not to teach Shenhua the same way. The path very hard, I know, but she deserve the best training if she was to become a true killer."

"Really? You handed down the legendary training secrets of the Kunlun Sect to Shenhua?" Rotton asked, eyes wide in awe.

"No," Liuyedao said flatly, turning around with the cups in hand and walking back to Rotton's bedside. "That Kunlun Sect bullshit I say to make you be quiet while I make tea. Now drink, it help you feel better."

Liuyedao held out the cup to Rotton, who lifted an aching arm and took the drink with a scowl. The silver haired merc eyed the tea warily.

"Relax, it not poisoned," Liuyedao drawled, taking a sip from his own cup. "If I wanted to kill you, I would have already smother you with pillow while you knocked out."

With that reasoning said, Rotton took a small sip and curled his lip in disgust. The tea was horrifically bitter.

"_Tch, the Kunlun Sect,_" Liuyedao murmured to himself in Chinese. "_Those are merely the stories of rivers and valleys. If it does exist, the sect would surely be tainted if a crude character like myself joined their ranks._"

"You still did not answer my question," Rotton said, resisting making another sickly face as he drank the tea. "Why did you treat your daughter so cruelly?"

"You still on that?" Liuyedao asked, sounding agitated. "First, pretty boy, she training to become freelance hunter, great knife fighter. I not teaching her to fight in trashy cage match on TV or dance in ring to win trophy. I tell you truth when I say strict and ruthless training necessary to make one grow into _true killer_. She going to be a hunter? Have to prepare her for every obstacle. The underworld not playground. You understand, pretty boy?"

"My name is Rotton," he replied. "... I do understand your reasons. Yet there must have been some urge to hold back since she was your daughter."

"Stop calling her my daughter," Liuyedao spat.

"She's not?" Rotton asked, mildly surprised.

"... It complicated." Liuyedao composed himself, rubbing his forehead as he set down his cup. He didn't want to say any more about the issue and tried to find a way to change the subject. "So, you really come all this way to get me to fix a knife? All for Shenhua?"

"Indeed," Rotton nodded. "My dedication to this task was unwavering."

"... I see," was all Liuyedao said. He gave Rotton another nondescript stare, and it unnerved the young mercenary. For some reason, the Wizard did not like that look.

"You _are_ going to repair the blade?" Rotton said.

"Of course," Liuyedao confirmed, "but still need more metal to reforge. Have to melt khukri pieces and bond with new steel. There is benefit to living in mountains, the metal be obtained faster. I put in order from friend and should be here soon today."

Rotton hummed, satisfied with the answer. So satisfied, in fact, that he managed to forget about the tea's bitterness and finished the rest in one long sip.

"Normally, I would make you gunmen pay for services, but I see you all out of money." Liuyedao reached into the back pocket of his pants and pulled out Rotton's wallet.

"Your friends in Mindanao beat you to it," Rotton said.

Liuyedao said said nothing as he flipped open the wallet. He glanced at a photograph inside. Miraculously, Rotton's blood didn't soak the picture when he had fallen down the mount. The only evidence of the bloody incident were the small red speckles in the upper right hand corner. The picture displayed two women side by side with genuine smiles across their faces, Shenhua and a ghostly woman with dark, half lidded eyes.

"You one of those types, hm?" Liuyedao muttered, more to himself than to the Wizard. Rotton knew the implications of the words.

"My companionship with Shenhua and Sawyer is mutual," Rotton defended. "We're all balanced."

"Balanced?" Liuyedao made a snide hissing sound between his teeth and smirked, amused. He closed the wallet and tossed it beside Rotton's sunglasses, near the pillow. "It no matter. I see stranger in my lifetime."

His smirk went away. Once more, Liuyedao gave Rotton an odd stare.

"... It can be deadly," Liuyedao said suddenly, as though warning the younger male. Rotton was confused at the tone.

"You come here because of Shenhua?" Liuyedao asked again.

"Yes..." Rotton uttered slowly, thinking Liuyedao's age was catching up with him. Didn't they already have this conversation?

"How long you know Shenhua?"

Rotton blinked. It was simple enough question.

"A few months."

At that, a wide smile graced Liuyedao's features and the man bent over in his seat, shoulders shaking wildly as he laughed. It was not laughter of merriment or glee, but that of spite.

"What is it about my answer that is so amusing?" Rotton asked, eyebrows furrowed.

Quickly, Liuyedao straightened his posture and shook his head. He began to mutter in Mandarin.

"_Shenhua works fast... or is it that other girl as well?_"

Rotton did not understand a word of the phrase and pried further, asking, "What is it? What did I say to warrant that rotten smile on your face?"

"You talk fancy, don't you?" Liuyedao said, switching back to English. He wiped off the "rotten smile" and changed his expression to a severe frown that matched the sudden intensity in his eyes. "Why I laugh... You been poisoned."

Rotton's eyes bulged and he dropped his cup.

"No, not tea. Shenhua," Liuyedao said gravely. Still, Rotton did not understand. Shenhua? Why... How would Shenhua have poisoned him?

"Poison you have not served in drink or needle," Liuyedao specified. "You want hear story, Mr. Wizard? _Real_ story? Long time ago, before Shenhua born, I steal Jin Long from gang leader. We run off and we live in Roanapur to have happy life together. We stay there for many months. Then, one day, I wake up and Jin Long not there. She run away. It so sudden, I know at moment that Jin Long arrange to get out of city in advance, behind my back, but you know people in Roanapur not do things out of kindness of heart. Jin Long did not have a lot of money, but she have skill elsewhere. She prostitute back then. Even dull boy like you can figure out how she make that work."

"So this is the complicated fact that ties into you being dubious about your legitimate paternity over Shenhua. I understand you concern with the matter, but what does this have to do with me being 'poisoned'?"

"I get to it. Now be quiet," Liuyedao commanded. "I very, very angry when Jin Long leave. I want to know why. Leaving me so fast, I think she treat me just like idiot gangster we run away from. I thought it act of cruelty, but... it was really act of grace, though I not realize it at the time..."

Rotton only listened quietly with sodden eyes. Where was this leading?

"I search for her," Liuyedao went on. "The search go on for very long time. I do whatever it cost and not care about consequences. I get in many, many fight along way, make many enemies, kill countless people. After a year, I finally track Jin Long down and kick down door to her apartment. First thing I see? Jin Long and this baby in her arms. I holding my sword in fighting stance and Jin Long just stare at me, a very bad stare. Then I understand.

"When I look into her eyes, I know why she leave me. The poison."

"What poison?" Rotton asked with light exasperation. Liuyedao looked at the younger male in pity. He began to speak slowly, enunciating.

"Rotton, just because you have a woman's affection, does not mean you have her mercy." Liuyedao's eyes had turned somber.

Rotton still did not understand, and Liuyedao began to elaborate on his lesson, voice laced with melancholy.

"Those who born in underworld, there poison in their blood; they destroy the people around them from inside out. Even when it not their intention, it cannot be helped. It a part of their system. They rot anyone who linger. Jin Long realize this before I did, and she leave before she destroy me like she did many other men in her past. But there still damage done to me. When I search for her..." Liuyedao gestured to a massive scar marring the crook of his neck. It appeared when the wound was doled out, his head had almost been taken clean off.

"Shenhua inherit this poison from her mother."

"You are being ridiculous," Rotton said boldly. "I am not poisoned and Shenhua does not have poison. My affiliation with her has not brought harm to me in any way."

Liuyedao released yet another empty laugh with an equally void smile.

"Really? Are those flesh wound then, pretty boy?" Liuyedao pointed at the countless bandages covering Rotton's body. "That cut on cheek from tree branch? That hole in hand from needle?"

"These wounds were received from you and your fellow fighters in Mindanao. I obtained them during my travels," Rotton countered. "Shenhua had nothing to do with my injuries."

"But I thought you say you come all this way because it all for Shenhua."

"... That... That accusation is out of context," Rotton said weakly.

"Is it?" Liuyedao asked. His smile began to disappear. "Rotton, people like Jin Long, like Shenhua, like Sawyer, the longer you dwell, more potent the poison get. Heart cannot sense it, but... Let me share thought with you: Was this journey really about khukri being fixed? Was it about making warrior tale about Mr. Wizard? Do you really come all this way and go through so much for woman you only know for a few month, or was it your body telling you to get away?"

"... That is nonsense," Rotton said sharply, averting eye contact with Liuyedao. The young man's eyes held a determined intensity. "Words of a jaded old man. That is all."

A long moment of silence passed between them until Liuyedao could only sigh, looking lazily at the clock he had mounted above the entrance to the shack.

"I have feeling the steel I need arrive in village. Should get it."

With nothing more to say, Liuyedao stood and began to walk toward the door.

Rotton spoke.

"What of an antidote?"

Liuyedao's fingertips had barely brushed the door knob and he looked over his shoulder at the silver haired man. Rotton agonizingly raised the upper half of his body and looked Liuyedao in the eye.

"Antidote?" Liuyedao asked in a hushed tone. Rotton nodded before holding out his hand in a reasoning gesture.

"If there is a person who possesses poison, then there must also be a person with an internal antidote to cure it."

Liuyedao smiled a dark smile, and there was a low sound in the knife master's throat. Such simple words, Liuyedao thought, but they were meaningful. A gleam appeared in Liuyedao's eye and he titled his chin upwards in amusement. He opened the door with a creak.

"An antidote, hmm? That interesting thought. Come see me in 10 years, tell me how that work for you..._ If you live that long_."

With nothing more to say, Liuyedao walked outside and shut the door.

Rotton could do no more than look down at his lap, left alone with his thoughts.

The journey was complete. The task was near its end. He'd accomplished his goals.

...Yet why was there a sense of loss?

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

**Three Weeks Later**

The fusion of metal towers and palm trees, a sparkling bay housing a blinded Buddha, a noose above a bridge, a ringing gunshot in the air, all of them familiar icons of this city, of the lovely Roanapur.

It was late when he finally arrived, 10 o'clock at night. Rotton stood in front of the door to Shenhua's apartment, taking a deep breath before unlocking the door. He haphazardly poked his head into the living room, wary of the very Shenhua-related dangers Sawyer had warned him of over the phone.

Odd, they weren't there.

He stepped into the apartment with a languid stride, trying to act cool. The apartment was eerily quiet. He checked the kitchen. Still, there was no one. Were Shenhua and Sawyer not home?

Rotton passed by the vase in the hallway leading to the bedroom entrance, turning the knob.

The knob slipped out of his hand as the door flew open. He grunted when a 5 inch red high heel jabbed his gut, just above where Liuyedao had stabbed him. The kick sent the Wizard reeling backward into the wall, hitting the flat surface with an audible smack before he sunk down to the floor. The vase shook from the force before toppling over onto the floor next to Rotton. He bent over and placed a hand over his stomach.

"I tell myself I kick your ass when I better. Stupid boy, never leave again!"

Rotton looked up to behold a rather aggravated Shenhua in her signature white silk jacket and red qipao, _standing_. So she had healed while he was gone. Sawyer stood behind Shenhua, an almost apologetic look on her face. The Taiwanese woman was not looking too sympathetic until she, as well as Sawyer, finally recognized the state of their gun toting compatriot.

The man was certifiably beaten into oblivion. A bandage on his right hand, a sealed gash across his forehead, two cuts on his right cheek, another large set of bandages peeking from the chest area of his partially unbuttoned shirt, and who knew what else lurked beneath the clothes. They grimaced and knelt down at his sides.

"**Rotton... why didn't you... tell us... about this?**" Sawyer asked. The man had never mentioned anything about injuries over the phone. The hell happened to him? They knew Rotton had dealt with his fair share of hunting incidents in the past, all of them self-inflicted by his dramatics, but he never turned out as badly as _this_.

"Rotton, I so sorry," Shenhua apologized, cupping his scarred cheek with her hand in disbelief. The woman's expression was a cross of anger and distress. "This happen while you gone? You crazy boy, this reason we not wanted you to go out on own! You okay?"

Amidst the concern, "the Wizard" said nothing, instead deciding to unzip the duffel bag that had slipped off of his shoulder. Gradually, he pulled out a black box and smiled.

"Shenhua, I believe this belongs to you."


	7. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE: NO HEROES**

**One Month Later**

"Shenhua, please consider my words!"

The woman seemed to ignore him and stalked down the hall with a mighty scowl. She gripped a khukri in each hand, her knuckles white. The quality of the repaired partner was impeccable, flawless. Liuyedao's work was nothing short of perfection. She held the blades low, beside her hips. In the furthest corner of her vision, she could see Rotton's reflection in the blades, chasing after her. The boy didn't know when to quit.

"How many times I tell you? Leave it," Shenhua demanded lowly. She stopped at the foyer connecting the living room to the hall and kept her back to his eyes.

Ever since he had gotten back, Rotton endlessly pestered her about going back to Kaohsiung to see Jin Long. The mere suggestion grated her. Before Rotton had come back to Roanapur, Sawyer herself tried her hand at convincing her to consider the old woman's feelings (no doubt as a favor for Rotton), but at least the Cleaner knew when to take a hint and stop. Rotton didn't possess that sense. No matter how many times Shenhua refused to consider his atrocious idea of a happy little reunion, he continued to annoy her with his incessant suggestions.

She was growing tired of it.

He reached out to her left shoulder.

"Shenhua, I know you are upset, but it has been years since you've seen each other. I traveled quite a distance to have your knife repaired and I learned a great deal. There's more to the story than you think. Won't you give the idea a chance? I believe you owe me that much..."

"_OWE YOU?_"

The Taiwanese woman whipped her head around so swiftly, her clenched teeth nearly snapped off one of his fingers. Rotton didn't have time to react when the angry woman pressed her left forearm against his collar bone, nearly choking him, and pointed the unfriendly side of the knife in her right hand at his neck.

There was a familiar steely quality to her eyes, blended with flames and sulfur. Too late he realized he'd pressed Shenhua too far. With a primal growl, Shenhua leaned her face into his.

"Owe that much? You say I indebted to you? I not remember me asking you to go on crazy trip. I remember right, you decide that all by self. You volunteer. Volunteer means do for free, yes? Then I consider this gift." With a bitter drawl, Shenhua brandished the blade above Rotton's neck. "I not owe anything to you, and I especially not do favors that consider old dragon lady. You say you meet her in Kaohsiung? I think you see ghost, sick woman who died long time ago."

She brought her snarling mouth dangerously close to the tight, even line of Rotton's.

"I not interested in visiting old spirit. Get through your head and there be no trouble for you. Now you stop talking, yes?"

It became evident when she drew away the knife so tantalizingly close to his neck without touching the flesh that the final words were to be taken as a vicious warning, not a request.

Pulling away from the Wizard, Shenhua stepped into the living room and called out to Sawyer, who had been sitting quietly on the couch during the short-lived event in the hall. The Taiwanese freelancer and the body disposal expert were to collaborate on a recent job that night.

As they passed by Rotton and began to head out the door, he shot Sawyer an almost desperate glance, as though asking her to help him convince Shenhua to change her mind.

His heart dropped into his gut when Sawyer gave him nothing more than a pitiful look and shook her head.

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

"_**How did you get this number?**_" It was a jaded feminine voice.

"Liuyedao gave it to me, Madame Jin Long," Rotton responded. He stood in front of the phone mounted on the wall just behind the sofa.

"_**What a troublesome man,**_" Jin Long muttered.

"I apologize if it bothers you, but I humbly requested that he give it to me in lieu of an emergency. He was kind enough to provide it."

"_**I was talking about you,**_" Jin Long said half-jokingly. "_**What is this about an emergency?**_"

"When I left your great house, I made a promise of finding a way to repair the bond between you and your daughter. Yet..."

"_**Yet what?**_" her voice was not eager, only questioning.

"I have tried for countless days to coax Shenhua into considering a trip to Kaohsiung. She refuses to acknowledge the idea. I wish not to keep you waiting, but I am afraid it will take longer than I anticipated to convince her to see y—"

He was cut off by a rasped, boisterous laugh that only served to confuse him.

"Madame?"

The laughter faded. A long sigh, then, "_**I must say I am disappointed, but not surprised.**_"

"... Pardon?"

"_**Put your mind at rest, young man. I learned long ago not to trust the promises of others.**_"

Rotton attempted to explain the situation, but Jin Long quickly cut him off.

"_**There is no need to defend yourself to me. I know it was not your intention to leave your vow unfulfilled. I know you tried to talk with my daughter about the issue. You do seem the type to attempt something so foolish.**_"

"Wait, Miss Jin Long," Rotton began, "I may not be able to bring Shenhua to you, but perhaps if there was an arrangement for you to come to Roanapur—"

"_**Leave it be, Wizard, there is nothing you can do.**_"

Rotton had been taken aback, and Jin Long took advantage of the man's silence.

"_**My relationship with my daughter is severely damaged; it cannot be repaired. I can live with a photograph. Now do not speak any more of the matter with Shenhua. You would not want to trigger the temper with ridiculous antics. It would be quite a shame if that were to happen.**_"

He was unsure if it was due to an overactive imagination, but he suddenly felt a chilling smile tug on the other end of the line.

"_**Do not be sad, Rotton. You sought out Liuyedao and made it back home. There are only a handful of men who have earned that honor. You gave Shenhua her new knife, am I correct? Take solace in that you completed your goal.**_"

Rotton did not find the words reassuring. Jin Long's tone was not one of tenderness, more of biting acidity.

"_**Still quiet, are you? Hmm... I am rather fond of you, Rotton, so I shall give you a tip. Guidelines for a budding villain, yes? My advice to you: I do not know what has led you there, but y**__**ou are in Roanapur now. It is time to stop thinking like a hero and leave things as they are. **__**Whatever vision you had in that touched head of yours of reuniting me and my daughter? Cast it aside and let it pass. Do not dwell on your failures, for you cannot accomplish everything. That sort of thinking can **__**destroy**__** an idealistic man.**_

"_**Remember these words, Rotton. We shall never speak to each other again. Goodbye. **_"

Slowly, listlessly, Rotton hung up. He pressed his back to the wall and slid down as the strength gradually drained from his legs. There was no light in the apartment; it was nearly midnight. He sat alone in the dark, looking down with blank eyes.

For once in his life, he couldn't speak.

**THE END**


End file.
